Everything After
by LostinOblivion
Summary: Matt and Emily are called in on their day off when an HT takes an Imax theatre full of 4th graders hostage. FINISHED!
1. Chapter 1

Matt and Emily were enjoying something they hardly ever got to do- relax. They had woken up late that morning and stayed in bed for a good long while after that, choosing to skip breakfast. After eating a leisurely lunch, they ventured out into the Saturday afternoon sunshine, intent on taking a walk. A quaint idea perhaps, but one that found them enjoying the chance to just feel that blazing sun, and just enjoy spending time together.

Cheryl had promised them the weekend completely off, they wouldn't even be on call. Temple and Binder got to enjoy that this weekend. In fact she put Matt and Emily on the bottom of the on-call list. There wasn't a snowball's chance in an L.A. June that they'd get called in, and neither had any prior engagements. There were no parents visit, no friends to catch up with, no parties they promised to attend, and no FBI shindigs they'd gotten roped into.

It was just the two of them for two whole lazy days.

By two thirty the two were lounging on a park bench, arms wrapped around each, Emily leaning on Matt, in an unusually public display of affection. They were so comfortable with each other, so happy just enjoying a weekend without having to rush to the next unhinged person wielding a gun.

"Do you realize this is the first time we've ever done this?" Matt asked suddenly.

"What?" She asked confused.

"Just spent the day doing nothing, you know we always have something to do. This is the first time we're doing nothing for a whole day together."

"After six months? It can't be?" She replied incredulously.

"Yeah. Think about it, when have we done this before?" He challenged her.

She was quiet for a moment, just thinking, before stating, "That's sad."

He laughed at her expression of distaste at the idea, and asked, "What do you want to do now?"

She thought for a minute and then grinned, "Ducks."

"What?" He clearly had no idea what she was talking about.

"The pond. Let's go and feed the ducks." She told him, getting up, and yanking him with her.

"Are you serious?" He was looking at her as if she lost her mind.

"Yes. Come on." Truth be told Emily had no interest in ducks, she just wanted to see him do it.

"Okay, where do we get food?" He asked still clearly confused with the situation.

"Over here, these machines." She pointed to the candy dispenser-like devices.

"I used to get M&Ms from these things when I was a kid." He said struggling to jam a quarter in the appropriate slot.

Emily watched him amused, as she turned the crank on a second device and was rewarded with a handful of whatever ducks eat. "That one might be broken, use this one."

"Right…why did you want to do this?" He asked, still less than thrilled with the idea.

"Why not?"

"Because their ducks, their dirty, they walk in their own feces." He muttered, as he walked toward the pond, after finally getting his duck food.

"So do you." Emily said, almost stifling her laugher.

"What?"

"Checkout the bottom of your shoe."

"Oh, gross!" He yelped upon seeing a large brown smear on the bottom of his left shoe.

"Stop being such a girl and wipe it on the grass." She teased him.

"A girl huh? You want some of this?" He held his shoe up toward her.

"Don't you dare," she warned, backing away slowly.

"Now who's being a girl?" he taunted as he grabbed at her, but she leapt away, flinging her handful of duck food in the process.

Matt went for her again, tossing his own handful of food to the side. Once again Emily leapt away, this time making a run for it, with Matt chasing her. They ran around the pond like a couple of kids, Matt finally catching up to her on the other side. He reached his arms out grabbing her around the waist, lifting her up before she started giggling and kicking out, knocking him off balance. They both went down hard, though not noticing because they were laughing so hard. And, as they laugh on the ground trying to catch their breath, Matt's phone went off.

With Emily still laughing in the background he answered it, not bothering to look at the caller ID.

"Yeah?" He asked, annoyed at the interruption.

"Hi to you too, Matt." Cheryl greeted him sarcastically.

"Hi, you better not be calling us in." He said, still breathing heavily.

"Are you alright, you're breathing heav- Oh god, I just interrupted you guys…" She let it trail off, suddenly realizing Matt's mood was probably do to her interrupting some rather vigorous sex by the sound of it.

"No, no, not that, I was just chasing her." Matt supplied, before realizing how odd that would sound.

"Uh, why were you- you know what I don't want to know." She was going to end this conversation before she learned more about her friends' sex life than she wanted to.

"What's up Cheryl?" Matt was just going to ignore the awkwardness.

"I need you two to come in."

"Whoa what? We have this weekend off remember? What happened to Temple and Binder?" He demanded.

"Alright relax a minute. I know what I promised you, but I really need you on this one."

"What is it, some politician or blue blood involved?" He said angrily.

"No Matt, the HT has over eighty kids hostage." She said it harsher than she needed to, but he was giving her a headache.

"What?" Now Matt was concerned, did he hear her right?"

"A guy took a class of nine year-olds hostage at the Natural History Museum. I'd really like you and Emily on this. You're my best and there is a lot of kids at stake."

"Okay, we're on our way." He said still in shell shock as he closed his phone.

"On our way where Matt?" Emily asked, having stopped laughing as she heard snippets of the conversation, and was clearly not happy, they were supposed to have the weekend.

* * *

The lights and sirens were flashing in the SUV as Emily continued pressing the gas, pushing the vehicle as fast as it would go. Matt was in the passenger seat talking on his cell to Cheryl trying to find out even a modicum more of information on today's HT. All they knew so far was that the man was very, very pissed about something, and had almost a hundred hostages. 

A brown haired man, age estimated early forties, had taken a museum theatre. There were just under 100 people in the huge Imax theatre, which was completely isolated from the rest of the museum, there was only three doors in or out from the museum, and he'd locked both with chains. To make matters worse, there was a class trip from a local elementary school occupying the better part of the theatre.

Third and Fourth graders had come from Sunny Fields Elementary to tour the museum and see a 3D film on frogs. The third graders had already seen the film, but the fourth graders accounted for over half their hostages. The HT had an assault rifle, as well as a duffel bag full of explosives, which he claimed he was more than prepared to use.

Emily tore through a light, and barely slowed down to turn into the museum, aiming the car in a shockingly accurate fashion, and skating almost perfectly into a parking space. Matt clicked his phone shut, and the duo grabbed their bags, heading toward their boss at the command post.

"Nice driving Lehman." Frank popped out of nowhere.

"Thanks. Did we get an accurate hostage count yet?" She asked them.

"Yeah, they say there's 84 kids in that class, plus five adult chaperones, two ushers are also inside, and they also sold 11 other tickets to that show. Which makes it 102 hostages." Frank added in his head.

"102, I thought you said it was less than a hundred?" Matt addressed Cheryl.

"Just found out about the 11 other tickets. What does it matter anyway?"

"Right, anything new on this guy?"

"Lia is still trying to ID him. Who's primary?"

"I am." Matt said, while Emily distractedly pointed to him, busy studying something on her computer screen.

"Alright, make the call." Cheryl told the people in the command post who'd already patched the call through to Matt's earpiece.

"Yeah?" The HT picked up the emergency phone on the wall of the theatre.

"Hi, this is Matt. I'm with the FBI."

"Hi Matt." The HT snarled condescendingly.

"What should I call you?"

"How about Boss."

"Alright Boss, how is everyone in there?" Matt said the name with distaste.

"Their fine, the kiddies have their lunch boxes, so no need to send food." He anticipated one of their possible moves.

"Alright, tell me Boss, what do you want to get out of this?"

"Revenge." He said the word with glee.

"Revenge against who?"

The HT was silent for a short time. "Tell me your last name Matt."

"Flannery."

"Hmm…" The HT sounded like he was thinking, trying to remember something. "Who's your secondary?"

"What?" Matt was surprised to say the least, and looked to Cheryl for explanation, how the did HT know that?"

"You're called so you're primary, so who is your secondary, what's his name?"

"My secondary is actually a her." Matt looked to Cheryl for guidance, and tried to buy time. What the hell was this?

"Okay then, what is her name?"

"Emily." Cheryl held up her hands saying she hand nothing, and mouthed that she was looking into it. Emily looked as confused as he was.

"Emily what, Flannery, I'm losing patience with you."

"Lehman."

"Ha! Her I know."

"What?" Now Matt was concerned and everybody looked completely bewildered.

"Yeah, she wrote the training manual right? Smart broad."

"Yeah, she is, very smart." Matt was at a loss, this was completely new.

"She's hot too if I'm remembering correctly. She's a redhead right?"

Cheryl looked worried, Matt was clearly disturbed, and Emily's mouth had fallen open, as she tried to wrap her mind around this new information. This guy knew her?

"Yeah, Boss, she's a redhead. Do you want to tell me how you know so much about her?"

"No, I don't think so." He laughed lightly and hung up.

* * *

This is a teaser for a full length, negotiation centered fic. If you like it let me know, and I'll write more. Thanks for reading and reviewing! 


	2. Chapter 2

"Alright, who the hell is this guy?" Matt demanded pulling the earpiece from his ear and tossing on a nearby table.

"We're working on it Matt." Cheryl told him. The press had arrived and were setting up camera's and microphones, and pushing for the best spots. Some even attempted to get past the wooden barriers the LAPD had set up for them. A few of the kids' parents had begun arriving and were met by an FBI counselor to explain what was happening.

"He knows her, I don't like that he knows her."

"Outside factors Matt, I'm warning you." Cheryl was prepared to pull him.

"What if he's FBI? Or rather former FBI?" Emily spoke, diverting their attention back to the issue at hand.

"It makes sense." Cheryl told her.

"Right, he wanted to know Matt's last name to see if he knew him, and when he didn't know Matt he moved to me, his secondary. It's the only explanation of how he knows what he does."

"Okay, I'll go with that, but we still need to know who pissed him off." He reminded her. As they were talking Frank and Duff came up, both also looking concerned.

"This guy knows Lehman? That can't be good." Frank stated, turning his head back from staring at a man trying to push past HRT, demanding to know about his son, Cody.

"We think he's FBI, we're trying to track him down now."

"Oh that's great, one of our own." Duff's voice held a hint of sarcasm.

"Yeah…" Emily said thinking, "Maybe even a negotiator…"

"What are you thinking Emily?" Cheryl asked her.

"How many feds, not in CNU or HRT know my name, let alone can put a face to it?"

"Organized crime knows you now." Matt referred to the kidnapping when CNU and OC clashed.

"True, but something's telling me he was a negotiator."

"Well, that'll make our job so much easier." Matt said sarcastically.

"What are the odds he knows you two are sleeping together?" Duff asked bluntly.

Matt shrugged, while Emily answered, "Slim."

"Why do you say that?" Cheryl asked.

"Because he only knows me, he doesn't know Matt. I don't think he was in our office. He's FBI, but he's not L.A."

"Then why did he choose L.A.?"

"Because whatever happened to piss him off, it happened here." Matt finished for her, following her thinking.

"Lia." Cheryl demanded into her mouth piece.

"I'm here, I've been following. Tracing cross-jurisdictional cases now."

"Good. Matt, try calling him again." She instructed, as Matt nodded and complied.

"What?" The HT demanded.

"You know how this works Boss, you have to talk to me."

"Do you have anything important to say?"

"Yeah, which field office did you operate out of, Sacramento? San Diego? Las Vegas?"

"Very good Matt. I suppose you want a pat on the back for figuring that out?"

"No, but a little information would be nice."

"I don't think so Matt."

"Alright, well, how are those kids?"

"Sacred, but unharmed. I promise."

"Good."

"Put your partner on."

"You know how this works, you talk to me."

"And you know I won't operate the same way other HT's do, now put her on the phone, or I hang up now."

"Okay, okay, relax." Matt signaled them to transfer the call to Emily.

"Emily speaking."

"I was right, it is you, I remember your voice."

"Oh, how do you know me, Boss?"

"I sat in on one of your classes. Me and my partner decided to see the woman who wrote the book. You surprised us, we expected some fat, grey-haired, woman who hadn't seen any action in a decade."

"Really?" What was she supposed to say to this?

"Yeah, but we walk in, and there you are lecturing, very hot, not even realizing that half the guys there were just there to watch you walk." He was purposely trying to make her uncomfortable.

"Tell me Boss, what would your partner think of you now?" She completely dodged his last statement, hearing an HT talk about her like that made her feel dirty and cheap.

"He won't think anything, he's dead." That was it, that little bit of intel that made everything make sense.

"How'd it happen?" She asked softly.

"You'll figure it out." And he hung up. Emily covered her the lower half of her face with her hands, and let out the breath she'd been holding into them. It had been a short conversation, but it was enough to make her skin crawl.

"I got him!" They heard Lia shout through the line.

"Who is he?" Cheryl demanded.

"Jackson Basel, of FBI- Portland. He and his partner came here just over a year ago to track down a runaway witness. They were trying to get the witness, Ashton Belamy to come back and testify against her boyfriend. Her boyfriend showed up and took hostages. They knew the boyfriend, so they wanted to negotiate. We didn't let them, had Temple and Binder negotiate instead, it didn't go down well. The boyfriend lost it starting shooting at us, hit a few of-"

"Yeah, I know the rest. A few of Frank's people ended up in the hospital, Special Agent Craig Patterson was killed. So this is revenge on us. Does he have a wife, kids, any family?"

"Yeah, looks like a wife and two sons, I'll work on finding them."

"Thanks Lia…any ideas guys?" Cheryl addressed Matt and Emily.

"You'd think he would have wanted Temple and Binder, not us, during these negotiations. He's doing this to embarrass CNU right?" Matt asked.

"I agree, something isn't matching up. He's obviously been planning this for a year, so why wouldn't he make sure to have to right negotiators. And why hasn't he asked for them?" Emily agreed.

"You're both in the FBI's top 5 negotiators, beating you two would be more satisfying."

"But he didn't know Matt…"Emily trailed off, thinking.

"What?" Matt could tell the gears in her head were turning again, and he had to tell himself to stop picturing her naked.

"What if he's lying about not knowing Matt? Really what are the odds that he knows one of us and not the other?"

"High. He saw you in class; he knew who you were. The only time he would have seen me is passing me in the office, he'd have no reason to know my name."

"I don't know, something doesn't feel right about this guy."

"Frank do you have a way to approach this guy yet?" Cheryl spoke into her headset.

"No, the place has no windows, and if we try to come in one of those doors, he can blow the whole thing to heaven, or start shooting." Frank's voice came crackling through. "We're working on setting up thermal imaging now, but with that many bodies, I don't know if it will help."

"What about a wirecam?"

"We could slide it under one of the doors, but I bet he's watching them. Bastard picked a good spot."

"Great…I don't suppose you guys suddenly came up with anything else?"

"What if one of us goes in with a pin-camera, it would gives eyes in there." Emily suggested.

"You know I don't like doing that." Cheryl told her, as Matt shook his head violently back and forth, he hated when she made suggestions like that.

"We need to see in there Cheryl, if not we may as well give up. Besides, if all he wanted was revenge he'd have blown everything to hell by now, he'll give us time. He wants us to be responsible."

"I don't like it, giving him another hostage is nuts." Matt was not at all happy with this.

"He's pissed at us, he'll jump at the opportunity to switch some hostages for a Fed."

"Who says he won't kill whoever I send in there as soon as they're through the door?"

"Because sending one of us in makes it more personal to us, it gives him more power."

"Oh, and that's what I really want to give him." Cheryl said sarcastically.

"I don't like it either Cheryl, but it's the only way to end this thing without 100 dead kids. We need to give HRT eyes, and he'll be talking to a negotiator whether he's on the phone or not. That gives us some power back." Emily didn't really like the idea of one of them going inside either, but nothing else was going to work with this HT.

Cheryl was quiet as she stared off at the crowd of frantic people that had formed around one part of the barrier. Even if she hadn't known, she would have been able to tell that these were the parents of the children inside. Several women already had tears dripping down their cheeks, other were gripping the barriers, or husbands or friends. Several people in the crowd were tapping their hands, biting their lips and other nervous mannerism. A few men looked ready to kill, and one was pleading with the HRT agent in front of him. She looked back to Matt and Emily.

"Alright, who wants to go in?" Cheryl asked them.

* * *

Thanks for all the interest everybody! I'll try to keep chapters coming every few days!


	3. Chapter 3

The negotiators looked at each other and simultaneously said "I will," neither wanting the other to be in that building. Cheryl rolled her eyes at them.

"Coin toss then, who's calling it?" She got out a nickel and tossed it in the air. Yes, this was the FBI's best team of negotiators- using a coin toss.

"Heads. No tails. Uh, heads." Matt tried to figure out which was more likely to land.

"Jesus, Matt pick one." Emily said annoyed.

"Heads." He told Cheryl finally, who lifted up her hand to see the tiny engraved picture of the Monticello.

"Tails, Emily you're in." Emily nodded part of her was relieved it wasn't Matt, part of her was dreading being in the same room with that man. Matt ran a hand through his hair and sighed, no he was not happy with this.

"Matt, are you going to be able to negotiate with her in there?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine." Cheryl nodded, but she'd keep an eye on him.

Emily climbed into their mobile command center, and told the tech guy to fit her with pin-cameras. He pulled open a drawer, and took out a small box, unlatching it and revealing a collection of accessories. He pulled out a barrette and a ring, and allowed her to pick. She took both, this man had FBI background, he might find one, the other would be back up.

The barrette was a simple and inexpensive black one, the kind a negotiator might wear to keep her hair out of her face while working. The ring was a worn gold, almost looking antique; she would be able to say it had been her mother's or grandmother's. That would lead to fewer questions than an engagement ring.

Emily clipped her hair back, and slid the ring on her right ring finger, nerves making her quiver ever so slightly. Then she stepped out to see a very grim looking Matt, and she briefly squeezed his hand. She handed her badge and gun to Cheryl and told Lia to connect her again.

"What now?"

"Hi Jackson, or do you prefer Jack?"

"So you've found me out then, should I give you a cookie?" Condescending bastard.

"No, you weren't that hard to find. So, I was thinking Jack, that I come in there and we have a face-to-face talk. The phone is just so impersonal."

"You're breaking protocol, hell you're breaking one of the biggest rules in your book. You people must be getting desperate…I like that. And a chance to get a negotiator in here, I can't really pass that up can I?"

"Guess not, but there is one condition."

"You want hostages."

"Yeah, my boss isn't real happy with this idea and says she wants half of the hostages."

"I'll give you two."

"Come on Jack, didn't you want this talk? How about thirty?"

"For you? How about ten?"

"Twenty."

"Fifteen is as high as I'll go, or tell your boss no conversation." Emily waited a minute, pretending to consult Cheryl.

"Alright, she'll take fifteen, but you have to let them out before I come in."

"I'll send them out now." He hung up.

"Are you guys nuts!" Frank shouted through the phone.

"We don't have much of an option here Frank, and yeah, maybe." Cheryl told him, wondering if her was right. Frank didn't have time to respond as kids began streaming out of the theatre. HRT ran up and collected them, dragging them to safety.

"Alright Emily, you're up." Cheryl nodded to her, feeling misgivings already.

"Don't get killed Lehman." Frank's voice crackled through the headpiece before she pulled it out and handed it to Matt, who had fear in his eyes. She felt bad, but she had a job to do. She gave him a sad smile, before walking away and disappearing into the theatre.

There was a collective intake of breath from the team that would likely be held until they saw her come out. It was less than two minutes after they saw her disappear inside that Lia's frantic voice cut through the quite like a knife.

"Did she go in already?!"

"Yeah, what's wrong Lia?" Cheryl was worried by what she heard in the other woman's voice.

"He's not the guy!"

"What?" Matt demanded.

"He's not Jackson Basel! I just talked to Special Agent Jack Basel, who while he isn't thrilled with the L.A. office, doesn't really hold a grudge. He's sitting at his cubicle in Portland, doing paperwork as we speak." Lia told them.

"Shit!" Matt threw the earpiece Emily had given him.

"Then who the hell did we just said Emily to talk to?" This was so, so, very not good.

"I don't know." Lia said quietly.

* * *

Emily stepped into the theatre, her eyes taking a moment to adjust to the darker interior; today the sun was blazing. She had just closed the door when she felt someone grab her and drag her to the side. She was violently flipped around to face a tall man (had to be over six feet), with brown hair, that sported only a few greys, and a pair of the angriest hazel eyes that she'd ever seen. He had a five o'clock shadow darkening his chin, a mole above his left eye, both eyes were bloodshot.

"Hello Emily." He sneered at her, his eyes running up and down her body, taking his time analyzing her appearance, and enjoying the discomfort she short at it.

"Hi." She said shortly. He wasn't going to talk immediately, she could tell that. He suddenly got very close to her, and he bent down in front of her, putting his hands on her legs. He then began to slowly run them up her legs, patting her down in a soft, intimate manner that would get any cop suspended. Once he got to her thighs he moved his hands back, rubbing them up against her butt, as Emily tried her best not to squirm. He smiled as the look of disgust on her face, and the way she bit her lip and clenched her fists to keep from lashing out. When he moved to her waist and ran his hands up her torso, cupping her breasts, she had had enough; she pushed him off and jumped back.

"You checked me enough! I'm not armed." Her skin was crawling, and she wished for a shower.

"Relax, just having a little fun." He smirked at her, enjoying every moment of his torment.

"I'm going to check on these kids."

"There's nothing to check. I didn't lay a hand on them."

"Their scared to death and so are their chaperones." With that last comment, she went down the aisles, talking to the most terrified children, assuring them that help was outside. She made her way to where their five chaperones and four other adults had gathered to greet her, and likely plead for their release, not that she had that much control over that.

"Hi, Special Agent Emily Lehman, FBI." She told them, and immediately saw a wave of relief go through them. Don't get too excited, she thought.

"Thank god, Alicia Juarez, when are we getting these kids out of here?" She was very tall, with curly black hair, deep brown eyes, and an air of authority.

"We've been negotiating with him for a few hours now, but it's going to take time."

"Time? Are you serious? We want to get these kids out of here now." A beer bellied, slightly balding, man demanded.

"Mr.?" Emily waited for him to supply his name.

"Al Potter." He spat.

"Mr. Potter, we're doing what we can right now. We can't just attack him, he could start shooting or worse detonate that bag. We don't want that. You're just going to have to trust us." She tried to calm him down.

"Why are you in here?" The woman who asked had strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes, and couldn't have been more than 25.

"I needed to get close to him to get him to talk to me." It was a much-simplified explanation, but she wasn't about to tell these people she had cameras on her. "How are all these kids holding up?"

"Their alright, scared and tired, but alright." Alicia had answered for the group.

"And how are all of you?"

Her response was a series of nodding heads, mumbled 'fines', and shrugging shoulders, as if to say 'how are we supposed to be?'

"Okay then. I need you all to keep the kids calm and distracted. And I need you to keep each other calm. I know this is a beyond shitty situation to be in, but you're in it. Don't panic and it won't get worse." She gave them the standard pep talk, and was rewarded with another round of noncommittal nods. She turned and left them, now it was time to talk to Jackson.

"Jackson! Jackson!" she called as she ascended the stairs toward him.

"What?" He spat at her.

"Time for us to have a little chat." She wasn't backing down.

"I guess this would be where you try to find common ground with the monster, me, and we have a heart to heart. I'm supposed to end up crying right?" He said gesturing with the gun, which was unintentionally aimed at her.

"I just want to talk." She said, almost in a pleading tone.

"And what do you want to talk about?" He put his leg up on the door knob, resting his gun on it, and then folding his hands overtop of the weapon, mocking her.

"How about your plans for these kids?" Emily wouldn't be dissuade.

"For me to know and you to find out later when it's too late!" He told her a twisted glee.

"I know you aren't going to kill them." Anything to drag the psycho into a dialogue.

"And why is it that you think that?"

"You would have done it already."

"If that is your best evidence then I really do have nothing to worry about." He smiled at her.

"I could be wrong." She told him, grasping at whatever she could to keep him talking.

"Fickle aren't you?"

"Maybe you just haven't had the balls yet to do it." Now she smiled, sweetly, she might piss him off, but he'll still be talking.

"Would you like me to shoot one of these kids, because I will if you don't behave yourself." He told her shaking the gun at her again, getting in her face.

Emily racked her psychology-trained brain, trying to develop a profile. _He used 'behave', he needs to condescend, feel power. Is very calm, too calm almost, at least too calm for a revenge killer. He has this completely planned out, it feels like…like whatever anger he has, has been fester for longer than a year, several maybe…Come on think Emily! The way he touched me…he likes to humiliate, to degrade. That sounds like a sexual predator, but that doesn't fit his M.O. The way he looked though was- oh god. The way he looked at me, he was seeing my body for the first time! My face he knew, he knew, he- shit, this is more personal than we thought. He wants to humiliate me, well me and Matt. He's pissed at us. Shit, shit, he lied. Who the hell is he? _

* * *

Alright, I've been trying to get this uploaded for three days, and it just wasn't working. Actually, it still isn't, I had to get a little creative to get this up here. I don't know when this issue it going to work itself out, and the link they give for help is broken so it's anybody's guess when the next chapter will appear. Does anybody know how to contact the people? 


	4. Chapter 4

"So if this guy isn't Jackson Basel than who the hell is he and why did he lie?" Matt asked taking a breath.

"If he lied about being Basel then we have to assume he lied about everything else." Cheryl commented, her mind racing trying to figure out what was going on with their HT.

"Hey, uh, we got picture, and this guy is getting real close to Lehman." Frank knew that women were capable of doing just as much as men, but he was still more protective of his female colleagues than male, especially when they were friends. And he did not like how close this guy appeared to her.

"What?" Matt demanded.

"Get in here and look." Frank told them as he went back into the mobile command post, with Matt and Cheryl following, both looking grave.

Once inside they saw in the two camera views, a shot of the hostages, and an awkward view of the HT. The theatre was painted black, with red carpets, and a huge white screen wrapping around the front, reaching into the sides. The seats were set up in three different rows, 60 in the center row, 40 in the other two, most of the closest seats in each row were taken, though the class took up the entire center row. The adults were beginning to congregate between the left and center rows, watching Emily and the HT nervously.

The second camera is what had them nervous, the one attached to Emily's ring. It was a much darker picture than the other camera, and slightly harder to see what was happening. They did however see Emily's stomach, her hand seeming to be held out and angled toward her body. Only inches away from her, they saw a masculine torso- the HT. As they watched they could see his hands move up her, and everyone in the room turned toward Matt, who was clenching his fists and gritting his teeth.

"He's frisking her." Frank stated.

"_That_ isn't frisking," Matt said angrily, "that's assault."

"That may be, but we can't do anything about it now, besides, it looks like Emily's had enough." Cheryl pointed to the screen where the camera view suddenly jolted out of control, and settled to show the bodies now several feet apart, and a smirking HT.

"Freeze that frame, and run his face." Cheryl told the tech, who hurried to do her bidding. "Frank does this video help you any with an assault plan?"

"It doesn't hurt. I suppose I could have most of HRT go in through the two emergency doors, and a few go in the door in the back of the theatre where the HT is hanging out, but he keeps moving. If we go in there thinking he's by the back down, and he moves, we've got over a hundred hostages and a Fed that could get hurt."

"You can't see any other way?"

"Not as long as he's got that detonator in his pocket, and gun in his hand."

"Well then go figure one out for me."

"Yes, man." Frank hurried turned back to the screens, studying the set up of the theatre, while Cheryl turned to Matt, who'd been staring at the screens.

"Flannery, you still with me?" She used his last name to get his attention.

"Yeah." He told her tearing his focus away from the screens.

"Matt if you can't do this, then I need you to tell me now." She warned him.

"It's fine, do we have Lia trying to identify this guy?"

"Gibbons just sent the picture, Lia should have it soon. Call the HT again."

"You don't want to give Emily a little more time."

"I doubt he's talking much to her." Cheryl told him as he signaled for one of the techs to connect him.

After a several rings the HT finally picked up. "Agent Flannery, what can I do for you now?"

"Talk to me."

"I thought once I let her in, you people would stop calling." His voice was jovial, he was enjoying this.

"No, I don't think you want us to stop calling." Matt said, the gears in his head turning.

"You do, do you?"

"Yeah, because if you did, those hostages would be dead by now. So tell me what you want Boss."

The HT laughed, "You figured it out then? Now who do you think I am?"

"You know, I'm going to be honest and say that I really have no clue." Matt told him, gripping the barrier next to him, trying not to sound pissed, or worried.

"Not very good at your job, are you?"

"No, I guess not. How about you help me then, tell me why you're doing this."

"You think it's that easy?"

"Yeah, you want attention, maybe not mine, but you want attention, otherwise you would have just killed those kids."

"You may be selling yourself a little short Matt, I think you've gotten better over the years." That statement got Cheryl barking over her phone to Lia, and Matt's blood pumping even harder. Yeah, he lied about everything.

"You remember me, but I don't remember you. You have a bit of an unfair advantage, how about you give me a hint."

"Jeez man, how many times have you screwed up that you can't remember one?" Matt could hear the smile in his voice.

"How bad did I screw up?"

"Oakland genius." The HT snapped at him before hanging up.

--

"Hey Jackson!" Emily called coming up to him, though she knew it wasn't his name. She'd been making the rounds with the kids again, after he shooed her away to talk to Matt. She hadn't wanted to go, but he wouldn't talk if she stayed.

"What?" he demanded, exasperation in his voice.

"Hey, if you're getting tired of this, we can pack it up and go home." She told him.

"Sure we will, what do you want?"

"Who are you? What did Matt and I do to piss you off?"

"Did you know that before coming in?"

"No, I figured it out."

"That's pretty good, you're better than your partner."

"Thanks, so what did we do to make you this angry?"

"You, honey, didn't do a damn thing. Consider yourself collateral damage."

"It that what these kids are?"

"Yeah, unfortunately for them."

"So you hate Matt, why?" She was making progress; she liked this.

"Your partner, he screwed up real bad. He's not very good at his job."

"How did he screw up?"

"He let some people get killed by a guy with a gun, and let some more get hurt."

"Will you tell me about it?"

"Maybe later…you should know what you're dying for." Emily was struck by an uncharacteristic bit of sympathy as he trailed off and stared blankly into space, no doubt, reliving his past pain.

Emily knew she wasn't going to get anything more out of him right then, so rather than obsess of his last comment, about her dying, she decided to walk the perimeter of the theatre again. She was hoping to find something they hadn't before, or at the very least give HRT another look at what they were facing.

The building was a cylinder shape, so they were no corners, which could be good or bad; she had no clue. It was one of the more comfortable places she'd seen to get taken as a hostage. Christ, when did I start judging things that way? The ceiling were very high, the seats large and plush, and the floors were shockingly clean. No theatre that'd she'd ever seen was that clean, at least no movie theatre. Performance theatres are usually clean, since they don't really serve refreshments.

As she was finishing her perimeter march she heard the unmistakable sound of a child whining. This was of course was followed by more children feeling brave enough to begin whining. She sighed, and made her way over to the front middle section, where the whining was coming from.

"What's going on guys?" She asked cheerily, though she felt anything but.

"Several of them have to go to the bathroom." One of the chaperones explained.

Emily crouched down in front of the first child to whine, and in a saccharin voice asked, "Is there anyway you can pretty please hold it?"

The poor girl shook her head determinedly back and forth, and looked about to cry.

"Alright sweetie, just give me one second." She told the girl, who nodded at her.

"Jackson, Boss, whatever." Emily called, tired of this game.

"What now?" He had that same exasperation, and Emily had half a mind to kick him.

"A few of the kids have to go to the bathroom and can't hold it."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"I don't know, let them go?" She forgot herself a moment, and let the sarcasm drip from her voice.

"There's an empty pop corn bucket over there, it's jumbo sized. They can use that."

"Are you kidding?" She asked in disbelief.

"Do I look it?"

"You can't make a bunch of nine year-old pee in a pop corn bucket, prisoners get better treatment!"

"They're going to die anyway, what's the difference?" He asked her, to which he got a glare.

"Look, it's either that or they wet their pants."

* * *

I found a way around the whole 'can't upload anything' issue, so I can post again. In the spirit of this happy discovery, I'm doing more spring cleaning, so enjoy! Oh, and if anybody is looking, 'The Jungle' is now rated M.


	5. Chapter 5

Matt's attention immediately flew to Cheryl, who was still talking to Lia, and he tried to rack his brain for cases he'd had in Oakland. Then as his focus drifted from Cheryl to blanking staring at the theatre, the past came crashing back into Matt's mind.

"Shit." He cursed. This got Cheryl's attention.

"What is it Matt?"

"Oakland, I remember it. It was one of my first cases, I lost two hostages." He ran a hand through his hair, sadly recalling those two kids.

"Fill me in then, we weren't partners back then." Cheryl gave him her full focus now.

"A guy took a bus full of kids hostage, he was ransoming them. Everything was going fine for the first half of the negotiations, and then he got impatient and pissed. Long story short, he shot three kids before we could take him down." Matt stared at the ground, and Cheryl could see the pain written on his face.

"I thought you said you lost two hostages?"

"Yeah, the third was a nine year-old boy, he lived, but was completely paralyzed and in a vegetative state. His name was Christopher Owens, his parents put him in Maplebrook, the assisted living home."

"You remember his name?" Cheryl asked him sadly. Matt didn't have the greatest memory.

"I had nightmares about that day for years afterward. The FBI shrink didn't help."

"Alright, let's find out what everything we can about this kid's father. Lia, you there?"

"Yep, nothing on his face. He doesn't have a record."

"That doesn't matter, look up an old case in Oakland," she put her hand over the mouth piece and turned to Matt, "We're you at L.A.?"

"Ah, yeah." Matt said distractedly, the guilt overwhelming him as it had almost nine years ago.

"Oakland, school bus full of kids was the hostage, one boy was named Christopher Evans."

"That's all I need, searching…" Lia was quiet for several minutes letting her computer do its work. "Okay, here we go, born September 4, 1989 to Melanie and William Owens, crossed our path in 1998, went down bad…"

"Yeah, I know all that, Matt was on the case, I need to know about his father."

"Uh…father died in November of 1996. Tough life this kid's had."

"What?" Cheryl demanded suddenly.

"I said he had a tough life."

"No not that, about his father, he's dead?"

"Yep, William Owens died two years before the bus situation." She was confused, was this who they thought their HT was?

"Matt?" Cheryl turned to him, "You ever have any other bad cases in Oakland?"

"No, I only had one other case there and it went fine, it was with you." He told her, as she drove through her memory, trying to locate the case. Oh, that one, firefighter with a big gun.

"Alright, Lia, look up the kids that died, and track down their fathers, let me know when you do. And find out anything else you can about Owens."

"Yes ma'am."

Matt dialed the HT again.

"So you figure it out yet?"

"Yeah, but first I want to know why you lied, why you wanted us to think you were Jackson Basel?"

"To screw with your heads, waste a little time," he sneered.

"That's it, you just wanted to mess with us?" Matt asked in annoyed disbelief.

"Yeah, actually worked better than I thought, considering I have your partner in here now. That I hadn't expected. But, anyway, more importantly, back to Oakland."

"You're pissed at me, don't take it out on those kids or my partner. They didn't do anything to you," Matt tried to reason with him.

"No, they didn't, and neither did she, but that doesn't matter now."

"You don't think so? Somebody you care about got hurt in Oakland because of a man doing exactly what you're doing."

"Somebody I care about? You don't actually know who I am do you?" He asked, quietly, his confrontational tone gone, and one of pain replacing it.

"I remember Oakland, but I can't figure out how you figure."

"Is it that hard?" He asked sarcastically.

"I though you were Christopher Owens' father."

"He died in 1996."

"But you are here about Christopher." Matt closed his eyes, willing the guilt to stay away long enough for him to finish this and get Emily out.

"Yeah, Chris should be driving around in his dad's old car trying to impress girls. His mom saved that old thing for him, runs pretty good even though it's from 94."

"Yeah, and he should be visiting colleges and getting ready to take his SATs," Matt added, "And I'm sorry he's not."

"That's it? That's all you got to say?"

"There isn't anything that I can say to take your pain away. I wish we had done…I don't know…any damn thing differently, anything that could have saved those kids. I wish that everyday. But we can't change a damn thing."

"No I suppose we can't, but I can sure make you feel like your world is ending."

"You could, but it won't make Chris better."

"Chris can't get better you asshole! He's dead!" The HT shouted at him.

"God, I'm so sorry." Matt told him, struggling to swallow the lump in his throat.

"He got pneumonia, do you know what that does to a quad?"

"No, I don't."

"His lungs barely work, cause all his nerves are shot to shit, the pneumonia clogs them, and suffocates him. You want to die like that?"

"No, I don't."

"You did that to him, and now you're going to pay." The HT hung up, leaving Matt feeling like dirt.

"Great thanks Lia." Cheryl spoke into her earpiece mic before turning back to Matt. "The kid's mother died a year and a half ago, but he has an uncle, Jacob Owens, who looked after him during that time."

"Then that is who is in there."

Cheryl didn't have time to comment as the theatre's rear door opened slightly and a bullet flew out, not quite missing her. All of CNU and HRT hit the ground simultaneously, the crowd beyond the barriers following, leaving the area looking abandoned, save for their vehicles.

* * *

Sorry this one is so short, I'll post another in a couple of days. Thanks for reading and reviewing! 


	6. Chapter 6

_Previously:_

_"You did that to him, and now you're going to pay." The HT hung up, leaving Matt feeling like dirt._

_"Great thanks Lia." Cheryl spoke into her earpiece mic before turning back to Matt. "The kid's mother died a year and a half ago, but he has an uncle, Jacob Owens, who looked after him during that time."_

_"Then that is who is in there."_

_Cheryl didn't have time to comment as the theatre's rear door opened slightly and a bullet flew out, not quite missing her. All of CNU and HRT hit the ground simultaneously, the crowd beyond the barriers following, leaving the area looking abandoned, save for their vehicles._

* * *

"What the hell are you doing!" Emily shouted and ran toward the HT after hearing the gunshot. 

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm shooting your cronies!" He yelled in her face, before turning back to the door and firing again.

"Damn it, they'll kill you!" Not that she really objected to that at this point, but she wanted him to stop shooting. When he ignored her, she threw all her training out the window, and jumped on his back, trying to pull him away from the door.

"Get off me bitch!" He yelled at her, pistol-whipping her so hard she thought her eyeballs would burst from her head. She stumbled off, clutching her head, knowing another assault would do her no good. She'd have to let him fire for now, they could defend themselves.

Instead she turned her attention to the kids, several of whom were now crying. She ran over to one of the chaperones, still clutching her head.

"He's distracted, start getting these kids out of here from the second emergency exit." She quietly told a terrified-looking woman.

The woman nodded and ran to the back, informing the chaperones in the back what they were doing. Emily continued moving frantically, telling every chaperone she could find to get the kids moving out. Every adult looked scared to death, and nervous as hell, but they did what she instructed. The kids weren't the quietest crowd to move, but he was distracted enough that they got the left section, the closest to the exit, and part of the center section out without him noticing.

Jacob Owens turned back momentarily, letting the door close against the assail of gunfire that had begun only seconds after his first shot. He could hear shuffling in the theatre, but he didn't look up; he didn't care if his hostages got away. He didn't really want to kill a bunch of kids anyway. He grabbed a second clip from his duffel bag and ejecting the first, loaded the fresh clip into his gun. Counting to ten before opening the door again, and firing on Matt Flannery's colleagues, and no doubt friends.

Emily breathed a sigh of relief; he hadn't even looked up. Had he, he would have a seen a very frightened and crying nine year-old boy run for the door. Emily had signaled them to sit when she saw him stop firing, and all but one child had listened. Now she began desperately signaling them to start moving for the door again. _How the hell was this actually working? _Emily thought to herself.

After another ten minutes of bullets volleying back and forth between the FBI and the HT, the middle section and the farther few rows of the right section had gotten out. The four front rows, the most densely packed, would be the most dangerous to get out, and Emily signaled them to stop before they started emptying. She had been counting his bullets, and when he hit ten, she knew he must have had a fifteen clip, regardless if it was illegal in the states.

Emily breathed deep, steeling herself for whatever crazy-ass thing she was going to do now, even if she didn't know what yet. She moved quickly, but quietly toward the HT, counting gun blasts as she went, 12…13…

When she got to the second row, she motioned them to get moving again, she was now eight feet from her target, 14…

Now she took off at full speed, just as the HT spent his last bullet, and turned once more, letting the door shut. _Now what the hell was she going to do? Oh well, no time to think._

He looked up as she landed in front of him, partially blocking his view of the theatre, but not enough. He saw the empty rows and the retreating forms of children. _Damn it! He would have liked to kill at least some__ of them._

"Damn you." He spit at her, before going for another clip in his bag. Once again Emily through caution to the wind and jumped in front of him. He didn't stop, he came right at her, pushing into her, as Emily struggled, using all her body weight to push back, hands on his chest. Unfortunately Emily's slim build worked against her, he moved faster and harder, knocking her off balance and pushing her to the ground.

Owens grabbed his bag tearing it open dug for his second clip, which had sunken to the bottom. Emily was still on the floor, grabbing her head again, which had started bleeding, the blow from the fall tearing open the already tender wound. She rolled onto her stomach and made a brake for the door that emptied into the museum, the closest to her that he wasn't blocking

Owens jammed the new clip into his gun and tore after Emily, turning only when he heard the door the kids had gone out of, which had long since closed, opening. Emily was at the top of now by the back rows in the middle section. She turned, as he had, when she heard the door open. There was Matt.

He had been helping get the kids out while HRT fired on Owens, and after trying to keep with protocol and wait for HRT, he given up and opened the door. He saw Emily standing next to the back rows of the theatre, her head was bleeding and he could tell she was breathing heavy. Owens was between them, a gun in one hand, and small black cylinder-esque device in the other. The detonator.

Matt and Emily made eye contact, pushing every emotion they were feeling at that moment into the five seconds their eyes connected. Then they both turned to the HT, who seeing Matt, smiled wickedly, and pushed his little button.

Emily dove under the theatre seats, praying they'd protect her from the blast, terrified knowing Matt was closer to that bag.

Matt was only 12 feet from the bag of explosives and he didn't even have time to react.

The building erupted in heat and smoke. The noise was a deafening boom, as the front of the theatre was ripped apart, experiencing the brunt of the force. Seats in the first half of the theatre were tossed about, landing haphazardly all over each other and the back, the fires of destruction burning them and everything in their path.

Outside HRT croutched on the ground against the blast, narrowly missing being hit, as they were approaching the building to see what had become of their negotiators. They saw flames and a body fly through the still opened door, the one Matt had gone in. Paramedics ran to the body and put out the fires that threatened to consume the victim's back and side. Frank got a look at the body, hoping it was the HT.

It wasn't.

* * *

_Now that The Jungle is done, this one is officially back from Hiatus, thanks to everybody that waited! Over the next two weeks updates will come fast, so don't hate me for the cliffhanger!_


	7. Chapter 7

Cheryl had been swatting away the paramedics, who though they'd already bandaged her bullet graze, seemed determined to give her a full examine, when all hell broke loose. When she heard the explosion she hit the ground, trying to look up and see what the hell happened at the same time. Obviously, she knew the asshole HT had detonated the bomb, but she wasn't sure they got all the kids out. When the paramedics dragged her away she'd left Matt and Frank in charge, which amounted to them continuing doing what they were doing.

Now she did get the chance to look up and saw smoke billowing from the doors, both of which were hanging from which ever hinge hadn't been blown off. She could see small glimpses of flames through the heavy smoke, and wondered who got out, and who didn't. The crowd of HRT parted long enough before the paramedics went through for her to see a prone figure on the ground. She couldn't tell much, except that it was a white male with dark hair, who appeared to be charred back. She got up and again brushing off what had to be the most annoying paramedic in history, half-walked, half-jogged over to Frank's team, and the body.

"Frank?" Her view was blocked by the paramedics working on the unfortunate individual.

"Cheryl, we got all the kids out." He tried steering her away from the figure now resting on a gurney.

"And Emily? Matt? Who is that?" She demanded, starting to go back by the gurney.

"He's bad Cheryl." He told her quietly. She turned back to him, giving him a look that said she didn't give a damn.

She walked slowly, not quite prepared for whatever awaited her when she finally saw him. A paramedic suddenly moved, allowing her a complete view of Matt. Her hand flew to her mouth as she looked over his body. He was laying on his stomach, his t-shirt burned away, and the flesh of his back turned black. She could see bright red where some of it was beginning to flake away. The flames had also eaten away pieces of his jeans, leaving more burned flesh, though this didn't appear quite as bad.

"What are his chances?" She asked the young paramedic beside her.

"Less than 40 of his body was burned, I'd guess he's got pretty good chances. Can't really tell yet though, have to look at him, and the doctors are better at that sort of thing." He told her with a soft smile, trying to reassure her, while not leading her on.

Cheryl nodded absently, swallowing the lump in her throat, and thanking god Matt was unconscious; he was going to need a lot of morphine. She made her way back to Frank, who was waiting for her with a sympathetic look, knowing how close she was to Matt, how close they'd all become.

"Emily?" She asked him.

"She's not out here, not in the museum. She was in there when it went up Cheryl. There's no telling…" He trailed off, not readying to admit his colleague may be dead.

Cheryl cupped her hands over her mouth and nose with her, and blew out a sigh, pushing any tears that may be trying to come to the surface deep down inside her. The firefighters had finally begun to arrive with their hoses, spraying inside the theatre putting out the flames that lingered. It didn't take long, fires started from bombs tend to smolder out under the debris.

"Alright, we need to start moving that crap around in there and looking for her, and him…or his body parts." She added through gritted teeth.

Frank whistled to get his teams attention. "Alright guys, we're heading in there. We've got three objectives, first: make sure all the kids really got out, second: we have a negotiator in there that we need to get, hopefully alive, and third: we need to collect the assholes pieces. We work with the firefighters, this is their turf now, if they tell you it's not safe, you listen and you back the hell away. Got it?"

Still wearing helmets and vests, his team nodded, and handing all their weapons to two team members who would stay behind and pack them up, headed into the broken building. Once inside the building they spread out, at least as much as they could with everything everywhere. Shifting things around they made their way around the building, slowly so as not to jostle the wrong thing, or miss anything.

Outside Cheryl was watching the ambulance drive away with Matt in the back, pinching the bridge of her nose to keep a headache away. She then headed over to the other half dozen ambulances that were set up to examine the hostages, and were currently surrounded by freaked out parents, demanding to have their children.

"Relax folks, we just want to make sure all your children are alright before we send them back to you." She tried to calm them down, and surprisingly enough it seemed to work. One by one the paramedics examined the kids and passed them off the their parents, who were met by an agent who got statements and gave business cards for victims services.

* * *

"I'm not finding anything under this shit, but more shit." Duff commented as he shifted half of a chair out of his way.

"Could be worse man, could be shifting through body parts." Frank told him, giving him a look that clearly said 'stop whining'.

"Cheryl? Frank? Matt? Anybody, is this damn thing still working?" Lia's voice suddenly came to life through the ear pieces they were still wearing.

"Lia?" Duff asked confused.

"Yeah, I got disconnected before, and I've been trying to get back through for over half an hour, what's going on over there?" her jumble came out as all one word.

"That must have happened after the blast." Frank told her.

"What? What blast?" She demanded, clearly worried now.

"Uh, the guy set the bomb off." Duff told her cautiously, waiting for the next assault of questions.

"What?! What about those kids? Emily was in there!" She shrieked at them through the phone.

"We're looking for her now, the kids got out."

"What do you mean you're looking for her?" Lia asked nervously.

"As in we don't know if she's alive or even in one piece Mathers." Frank told her a bit too harshly into the phone, but she was being dense.

"Oh my god…where's Matt?" She breathed out the first part, but blurted the second, which had just occurred to her.

"Uh, he got caught in the blast, burnt pretty bad, on his way to the hospital."

"Oh god, is he going to be alright?"

"Don't know, Cheryl talked to the paramedics before they left."

"Where is she?"

"Outside dealing with the hostages and their families, and probably listening to this." Frank told her, half-amused realizing that Cheryl was probably hearing every word and not saying anything.

"Yes she is." Cheryl said into her mouthpiece as she watched the families, who were slowly coming back together and leaving for the safety and security of their homes.

"Are you alright?" Lia asked her tentatively, half knowing her boss wouldn't admit it even if she wasn't.

"I'm fine Lia, do you want to go to the hospital and wait for word on Matt?" She asked hoping Lia would go, so she'd have one less thing to worry about.

"Yeah, of course, what hospital?" Lia swallowed down the protest that would normally come, she hated hospitals, and she wasn't a people person, that is why she worked on a computer.

"Mount Hope, he'll be on the burn unit. Show them your ID when you go in."

"On my way now." Lia said with more confidence than she felt.

"Thanks Lia."

"Of course." Lia hung up, startling her fellow computer nerds and bolted from the room.

* * *

Four hours later HRT heard the shout they'd been hoping for, actually it was more like a moan.

"Frank, did you hear that?" Duff whispered not daring to hope.

"Yeah, I definitely heard something…Lehman is that you!" He called, his voice carrying through the theatre and back.

The moan came again.

"Keep making noise Lehman, we're following you!" he called to her again.

"I found something!" A young HRT agent called to him.

Duff rushed over to the young man, helping him shift the debris away from whatever it was he found. Duff shined his flashlight, while checking for a pulse on the neck.

"It's the HT, he's dead." He called to Frank, slightly disappointed they hadn't found Emily.

"Oh god." The agent beside him breathed.

"What's wrong man?"

"He's not all there." The young man looked sick, so forcing his amusement to the side, Duff sent him out to get fresh air. Then turned to Frank.

"What did he expect from a bomb site?"

"Who knows…" Frank said rolling his eyes. Then they heard the moaning again.

"She's gotta be up this way." He told Duff as the two met in what used to be the aisle between the left and center seating sections.

"We're pretty close to the top man, she's got to be close." Duff commented shifting a seat from their path.

"Keep moaning Lehman, if we don't get you outta here Matt's gonna be pissed, and he sucks at paintball way too bad to beat us, don't make him have to try again." He teased her, trying to get any response out of her.

He was rewarded with another moan.

"Alright she's closer to your side, Duff, the center, keep shining that light." To Emily he said, "Come on, we need to hear your voice again. Help us find you, Cheryl's going to be irate if we don't get you out of here soon, and unlike your boyfriend, she's actually scary."

"Here…" It was raspy and barely audible, probably from inhaling god knows how much smoke.

"There! I see a foot!" Duff exclaimed pointing to something in his flashlight beam. They began shifting things off seats that appeared to be protecting her. When finally they'd gotten enough off to make out a figure, they saw her half curled under the seat.

* * *

_Thanks for the reviews!_


	8. Chapter 8

_Previously: "There! I see a foot!" Duff exclaimed pointing to something in his flashlight beam. They began shifting things off seats that appeared to be protecting her. When finally they'd gotten enough off to make out a figure, they saw her half curled under the seat._

"Somebody get me a paramedic!" Frank yelled in the direction of his men, before he saw her trying to get up. "Jesus Lehman, what the hell are you doing?"

"Getting the hell out-out of here." She coughed out.

"Would you wait for the paramedics." It wasn't actually a question from him.

"Fine, jus-just got a bang on the h-head." Now that she was fully conscious again, she was sure as hell not staying in the inferno.

"Just a bang my ass, you can barely breathe." He told her even as he held her arm, allowing her to raise herself from the ground.

"Smoke inhalation. I'm fine."

"Matt ever tell you that you're a pain in the ass?" He asked her smiling, truth be told, he was relieved she seemed to be relatively unharmed. The theatre seats must have protected her.

"Yes, often. Where is he?" She coughed, nearly gagging on her words.

"You okay?"

She nodded, "I saw him by-by the door, before the b-bomb."

"You need to sit and get some oxygen in you, where's my paramedic!" He yelled toward his men again, as he helped her sit on one of the undamaged seats.

"Where's Ma-M-Matt?" She struggled to get it out, her breathing was getting worse the more she talked.

"Lehman you need to stop talking and wait for the paramedics." He told her sternly.

"Damn-Damn it Frank, where is-is he?" She demanded, tears in her eyes, fearing the worst.

"Mount Hope Hospital, burn ward." He finally admitted to her; he hadn't wanted to upset her, and make her worse.

"How-How bad?"

"He's got some bad burns, Lia's waiting with him now."

Emily nodded her head, struggling not to cry as she continued coughing and wheezing. Frank looked at the pain in her eyes and felt irrationally like prick for being the messenger. The paramedics finally arriving, one with an oxygen tank, two more with a gurney, saved him from awkward silence and her eyes.

Emily sat still as they slapped the clear mask over her face and the machine began feeding her sore lungs oxygen. She closed her eyes, too tired to move, and just sucked in the air, trying to think of anything but Matt, afraid she'd start crying.

"Alright Miss, lets get you out of here, just climb on down here." He pointed to the gurney.

Emily looked at him like he'd just told her to put on a solid gold dress and sing the Kokomo song, then seeing his confusion simply shook her head.

"Uh, we need to get you out of here, you have to get on the gurney."

"I don't need a gurney, I can walk fine." She pulled off the mask momentarily to speak.

"It's our policy miss." But she just ignored him and went to stand. He looked to Frank for help, who rolled his eyes.

"Come on Emily," He used her first name to get her attention, "give these guys a break."

"I'm fine Frank." And to prove it she was on her feet and moving for a whole two steps before she felt dizzy and sat back down. "Fine."

* * *

To save themselves a headache, Frank had insisted the paramedics take Emily to the same hospital the previous pair had taken Matt. And after wheezing a hello at Cheryl, who looked at her pitifully, Emily was loaded up in the ambulance, and driven away.

"Mathers." Lia answered her phone after taking the vibrating device outside.

"Lia, it's Cheryl. How's Matt?"

"They haven't said much, they're still working on him. The last doctor said it would be awhile before they finished, but that he had every confidence Matt would be fine." Lia had been at the hospital almost five hours now, and still hadn't seen Matt.

"That's good news I guess." Cheryl went quiet thinking.

"Uh, did the guys find Emily?"

"Yeah, she's part of the reason I called. The ambulance is on its way with her right now. She has a bump on her head and can barely talk without coughing she inhaled so much smoke, but otherwise she's fine."

"Oh thank god."

"Yeah, most of the kids and their families have left, and the guys found half of the HT, so it shouldn't take too much longer to wrap this up."

"Uh, half the HT?" Lia asked, not quite sure she wanted the answer.

"Yeah, Frank said they are still looking for a leg and an arm."

"That's disgusting."

"That's what happens when you set off a big bomb." Cheryl said sarcastically.

"Are you coming here after you finish at the scene?" Lia ignored her comment.

"Yeah, maybe they'll actually be done with Matt by then."

"I wouldn't count on it, but I'll see you then."

"Yep, bye." Once they disconnected, Lia went in search of Emily, or rather the emergency room, figuring she wouldn't be at the hospital yet.

"Hi, I'm Lia Mathers, I'm with the FBI, where do your ambulances come in?" She flashed her ID at the harassed triage nurse.

"Through those double doors, who are you waiting for Agent Mathers?"

"One of our agents is coming in from a bomb site, I'm supposed to meet her here." Lia didn't correct the nurse, nobody would give her trouble if they thought she was an agent.

"We got one of yours earlier, he's in the burn unit. Is that the same bomb?"

"Yeah, I've actually been with him, but they just found her, so she hasn't gotten here yet." Lia explained.

"That poor thing, they brought him in hours ago," the nurse shook her head sadly.

"Thanks, uh, I'm going to go wait outside for her." Lia said awkwardly, before she turned and walked out the double doors into the small alcove, which was beginning to get dark.

There was an ambulance pulling up as she walked out, and three people raced out, yellow aprons covering their blue scrubs. As soon as the vehicle came to a stop, one paramedic popped out of the back, while the other came around from the driver side. They slid out a gurney with a young child on it, male or female, she couldn't tell.

"What do you have?" One doctor asked.

"Five year-old male, car accident, gash in his head, several broken ribs, and maybe a broken arm. We had to put a tube in him, I think his lung might be collapsed. His twin sister and mother are on the way." The paramedic answered as the began wheeling the child inside, one doctor running along side the gurney, the other two waiting on the other ambulances.

They arrived together, paramedics jumping out as before, pulling out the gurneys and lowering them to the ground, going through the motions as they had a thousand times before.

"Thirty-two year-old female, car accident, concussion, dislocated shoulder and broken arms, the kids are hers." A young female paramedic announced as they went inside the ER.

"Five year-old female, severe concussion, likely bleeding in the brain and chest, she's banged up pretty bad, her right arm is hanging on by a vein." They ran inside with the last gurney, the doctor whispering platitudes to the unconscious child, knowing that she couldn't hear them.

Lia struggled not to get sick at the site of two bloody battered five year-olds, one with an arm hanging off, as she continued to wait. With nothing better to do, and two anxious to stand still, Lia began to pace back and forth in front of the ER doors, trying to distract herself from the hell that is a city emergency room. She was distracting herself so well she didn't hear the next ambulance pull up until the paramedics were emptying it. She caught a glimpse of red hair against the white gurney, and went to get closer. It was Emily, looking, even through the oxygen mask, both exhausted and like she wanted to bolt.

She yanked the mask off as soon as she saw Lia and croaked out, "How's Matt?" She wasn't coughing as much anymore, but she still sounded like she went through two packs of cigarettes a day.

"They're still working on him, but their optimistic. How are you?" Lia walked with the gurney, momentarily flashing her ID to ease the doctor who'd come to meet the ambulance, and the paramedics, one of whom kept putting the mask back on Emily.

"I'm fine, just knocked out for a while." Lia looked at her half-amused, half in disbelief, Emily was acting like she'd been out two minutes instead of more than four hours.

"Try to keep that mask on Ms. Lehman, we want you inhaling that a while longer." The doctor told her, not convinced she'd listen.

Shockingly she did, and straightening the mask on her face, she moved from the gurney to the bed they'd put her next to, laying down before even being told. Lia stood to the side while the doctor began examining her, brushing her hair away and gently examining her head wound, before having a nurse wipe off the dried blood.

The put his stethoscope to her chest and listened to her breathing, commanding every so often to breath in or out, and moving the stethoscope to her back to listen again. While he was doing this the nurse checked her pulse and blood pressure, confirming them as normal. He then proceeded to examine her superficial wounds, and confirming that they were in fact superficial, scribbled more on her chart.

"Alright, Jim take her up to radiology, get me a PET, I want to see her lungs too, make sure the smoke didn't do greater damage." He told the intern next to him, before addressing Emily, "You probably have a concussion, which would have kept you out for a while, but it's good that you woke up on your own. That means it wasn't that bad, as soon as we can confirm that with the x-rays, we'll know how long you have to stay."

"I'm going to have to stay?" She asked, clearly less than thrilled with the idea.

"At least a night," he told her, and seeing her expression continued, "you were in an explosion, your lucky to get away with what you did."

"I know that." She simply said, and Lia knew she was thinking about Matt. The doctor look at Emily curiously before seeming to accept her response, and move on to the next patient. Jim, then began pushing Emily's new gurney to the elevator, with Lia walking alongside.

"You're coming?" Emily asked her.

"I'm sure as hell not staying down here, I've already seen enough blood." Lia said, then looked at her, "Do you want me to check on Matt?"

"Yeah…Thanks." Emily looked at her gratefully, and Lia squeezed her hand before turning down the hall to return to the burn unit.

* * *

"We got the rest of him Cheryl, and my guys are tired, I'm going to send them home." Frank told her, coming out of the theatre.

"Good." It was almost nine o'clock, they'd be going for ten hours, all the hostages were home with their families, and they were just working on clean-up now.

"Are you ever going home?" He asked her, knowing full well that she'd take full responsibility for what happened and not leave until everything was settled.

"Yeah, I'll go soon. I told Lia I'd see her at the hospital." She said distractedly.

"Then I'll wait for you, I was planning on heading over there too." Though Frank didn't always see eye to eye with Matt and Emily while they were on the job, they were friends, the whole team was.

"Alright," she said, "then lets get out of here." She said turning away from her focus, people packing everything up, leaving the damaged structure until tomorrow.

They made their way to Frank's SVU as Duff came running up to them. "Are you guys going to the hospital?"

"Yeah man, you coming?" Frank asked over the hood of the car, as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"Yeah." Duff answered, jumping in the back seat, as Cheryl shook her head in amusement, and buckled her seatbelt.

"Let's go," she told Frank, "Maybe if we get lucky, they won't try to kick us out before we see them."

"If they try we just flash our badges, and they'll back down, I guarantee it. Nobody wants to tangle with the Feds, especially HRT in full gear."

"Good point, you two can intimidate the doctors." She said smiling at him, it felt good to be joking around after that hellish scene, and whatever awaited them at Mount Hope.

* * *

"Ms. Lehman, your concussion is minor as we expected, and you didn't suffer any permanent damage to your lungs. So we're going to take you off the oxygen now, and put you on a IV to replenish your fluids. We are also going to give you these," he brandish a bottle of pills. "It's a simple expectorant, it will having coughing up black phlegm for few days, until your lungs clear up. The nurse will give you one now, and one tomorrow morning before we discharge you. We want you here tonight because of the concussion."

"There is no way you'll discharge me now?" She really didn't want to be stuck in this room. They had since put her in a shared room on the 4th floor, where she'd have to spend the night.

"No, after what you've been through, we want to be cautious."

"I really, really would like to go." She pleaded with him. Lia, who gotten back with the same news about Matt, rested a hand on top of Emily's trying to calm her down.

"I understand that, but I can't let you."

"And what if I checked out AMA?" She threatened, Lia patted her hand, wondering what the had said to get her so riled up.

"I'd really rather you didn't." He told her sternly.

"Emily, it's probably better you stay here tonight." Lia tried to tell her.

Emily bit her lip to keep from getting upset, "Would you let me leave the room for a little while?" she asked the doctor.

"May I ask what's so important that you need to leave now?" The doctor asked her, as realization hit Lia, now she knew what Emily wanted.

"My boyfriend is in the burn ward, I need to see him." She told him quietly.

"Oh, I see," he paused considering her request, and at the obvious need in her eyes, consented, "Two hours, then you back in here sleeping."

"Thank you."

"Ms. Mathers," He addressed Lia, "you'll go with her?"

"Of course," she immediately jumped up to help Emily out of the bed, though she was doing fine on her own. The doctor left, and soon after, so did Lia, and Emily in her hospital pajamas, which thankfully, did cover her butt.

* * *

_Sorry for the delay on the update, graduation and family has kept me busy the last three days, and now that I'm home updates may be sporadic for a week. depends on my computer access. I'll update whenever I can. Thanks for reading and reviews!_


	9. Chapter 9

"Lehman why the hell aren't you in a bed?" Frank demanded as he, Cheryl, and Duff walked into the burn ward waiting room, and saw the two woman sitting, half-asleep on plastic hospital chairs.

"Hi guys, they gave me two hours to see Matt." She answered.

"Yeah, after she gave the doctor a hard time." Lia filled in.

"How are you feeling? You sound terrible." Cheryl asked coming over to her, concern written all over her face.

"I'm fine, just worried about Matt."

Lia gave her a look, "She has a minor concussion, and temporary black lung, and they say they are almost done with Matt."

"What the hell have they been doing with him this long?" Cheryl asked her.

"The doctor said they had to remove the burnt skin, clean the open areas, and apply temporary skin graphs, which takes a while."

"Temporary? Where do they get the skin?" Duff asked.

"The morgue, genius." Frank told him.

"They're going to put a dead guy's skin on him?" Duff made a face.

"They have to protect the exposed flesh, before they can use his own skin." Frank explained.

"Okay, uh guys, much as I appreciate the company, I don't need the visuals." Emily pleaded with them, she couldn't think about Matt that way without wanting to vomit.

"Sorry." They both said sheepishly.

"I need coffee." Lia suddenly said, "Who wants some?"

"I'll take some." Cheryl told her.

"Sounds good." Frank added.

"Emily?" Lia asked. She got no response, she seemed to be staring into space.

"Emily," Cheryl tried, getting her attention, "you want coffee?"

"Am I allowed?" She asked no one in particular.

"I'll ask a nurse on the way to the cafeteria." She told her friend.

"I'll come with you," Duff offered, as the two walked off.

* * *

Almost an hour later, the group was sitting all too quietly, still waiting for a doctor to come out and tell them about Matt. They'd been through their second coffee run only moments ago, and were currently sipping the new beverages. Finally they saw a tired looking figure coming down the hall, wearing blue scrubs, and pulling off his matching hat. He approached them cautiously, as if he wasn't sure which one to address.

"Are you all here for Mr. Flannery?" He asked them, before noticing Emily's attire, and giving her an odd look, _why wasn't she in her room? _

"Yes, we are. How is he?" Cheryl asked, as Emily just stared at the doctor, her eyes filled with fear.

"He suffered third-degree burns on about 20 percent of his body, second-degree on another ten, but those we aren't too worried about. We had to remove most of the skin from his back, and replace it with temporary graphs for now, that means we stapled it on." He explained to them, and noticing the pained looks he received wondered if that was maybe too much information for them, but he decided they want to know at some point anyway.

"When he's in better shape, we'll be able to use his own skin to make permanent graphs. Right now he's heavily bandaged, and coming out of the anesthesia we've had him under. You've got about twenty minutes before he's completely lucid, and then we're going to sedate him again." He paused again, making sure they all understood before finishing his monologue.

"Why are you sedating him?" Lia asked, concerned.

"He's going to be in a lot of pain the next few days, more than morphine can help. Right now, he needs to rest, maybe tomorrow you'll have more time with him. For now he'll be more comfortable sleeping." The group was silent for a few moments, all trying to process what the doctor had just told them.

"But, he's going to be alright?" Emily's quiet voice broke the silence, she wasn't almost afraid consider the thought.

"It'll take time for him to heal, but yes, he'll be just fine." The doctor said with a smile, thrilled to be able to deliver happy news for once. Emily nodded tiredly.

"Can I go see him now?" She had to see him, she couldn't believe it until she saw him.

"Yes, second door on your left." He told her, before wondering off in the opposite direction.

Emily left her forgotten coffee on the plastic chair and headed down the hallway, slowly, nervously, still scared to death that she'd open that door, and he'd be a blackened skeleton. Once arriving at the room she took a deep breath, before opening the door, her eyes resting bandages, lots of white bandages. He was laying on his side, his back, which was where the bulk of the obtrusive white gauze was wrapped, facing the doorway. There was a blue sheet pulled halfway up his body, covering more the bandages that she knew lay beneath.

She slowly made her way around the bed, taking in the army of monitor's above his head, blood pressure, heart rate, breathing. Then there was the IV pole, with it's own monitors that told two separate liquids when and how often to drip into the thin clear tube that led to his hand. She saw his eyes were closed, so she quietly sat in the chair beside his bed, taking his hand in both of hers. It was warm, and with the relief that hit her body like a powerful ocean wave, the tears came.

"Hey." At the sound of his scratching, weak voice, her eyes flew open.

"Hey." She said back, her own voice still sounding like a lifetime smoker's.

"You're alright." He said with a weak smile, for the brief few moments he'd been conscious, he'd been scared, knowing she was in the building when it blew.

"Better than you." She laughed at his statement, considering the condition he was in.

"I see that. Owens?"

"Dead, they found all the pieces a few hours ago."

"Cheryl alright?" Matt asked remembering that she'd been hit.

"It was just a graze, Frank said she was out there directing the scene two seconds after she forced the paramedics to let her go."

"Sounds about right." He answered smiling. They were silent for a few moments, Matt too weak to say much else, and shock still keeping too many coherent thoughts from Emily.

"God Matt, I was so scared. I had to ask Frank four times before he told me what happened to you, and then nobody knew if you were going to make it." She told him, breaking the silence.

"I'm alright." He said, squeezing her hand. Still with tears running down her cheeks, she leaned close to him, and kissed him long and deep, needing to feel the life in both of them. He reciprocated as eagerly as his tortured body would let him, and they starved each other for breath until a nurse came in.

"Oops, sorry kids," the grey-haired, full-bodied woman said, upon realizing what she had interrupted. Matt and Emily broke apart abruptly, both blushing slightly. "I have to give you a little something help you sleep now Mr. Flannery."

"Can it wait a little longer?" He asked her, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"Sorry honey, if I let it go a little longer, that pain you're beginning to feel, that's going to feel like the tortures of the damned." She told him, giving him the same look his mother had when he didn't want to take medicine.

"I'm stuck here overnight too, I'll come back as soon as they let me tomorrow." Emily assured him, not wanting to leave him either.

"See, you listen to your girlfriend here, though I'm sure she had to negotiate her way up here. You're doctor let you come up?" the nurse asked her, tapping a needle, before plunging it into Matt's line.

"I'm pretty persuasive." Emily told her with a smile.

"You must be, if you want you can stay until he's asleep. It won't be long anyway." The nurse said before throwing away the used needle and gloves, and leaving.

Emily pulled the chair closer to Matt's bed, and taking his hand again, rested her head on the bed, next to his. With his other hand, Matt brushed a strand of hair from her face, and ran his hand along her cheek, before resting it back on the bed, the drugs taking effect quickly.

Emily watched as his eyes began to flutter closed, and he forced them back open, blinking to try and keep awake. She stroked his hand, trying to ease him into not fighting the drugs, but like a reflex he kept struggling to force his eyes open. Matt didn't want to close his eyes yet, he didn't want her to leave yet, though he knew he didn't really have a choice.

After battling himself for another minute or so, the drugs finally won, and his eyes didn't flutter open again. Emily still kept her head by his for a few more minutes, watching his steadying breathing, and relishing every moment. She'd seen, no she'd felt for herself now, he was alive, and now she could relax knowing that. Kissing his hand softly, she got up, and quietly made her way out of his room.

"How was he?" Cheryl asked Emily as she went back to waiting room the FBI seemed to have taken over.

"A little out of it and worried about everyone else, but he seemed okay." She answered.

"He must been at least that, going by what that nurse told us she walked in on." Frank teased her, but this time Emily didn't blush; she smiled at him before yawning, exhausted now that worry wasn't fueling her.

"Are you ready to go back to your room and sleep?" Lia asked her.

"As long as you all go home and do the same." She told them, knowing that they must be just as exhausted as she was.

"You're sure you'll be okay?" Lia asked her still concerned, and she noticed her other three companions shared the same look.

"Matt's knocked out until tomorrow morning, and I'm so tired right now, I'll probably sleep through tomorrow, so yes, we'll both be fine." Emily stressed both, knowing they were all worried even more about Matt. He seemed fine tonight, but he was barely lucid, and hadn't really processed what happened yet.

After walking Emily back to her room, though she protested and insisted she could get there fine on her own, the remaining members of the team headed back to their own apartments. There they would get some much needed sleep, and try and drowned out the images of a burning body.

* * *

_Thanks for reading, and thank you for the review Hunnielove!_


	10. Chapter 10

When Matt came to the next morning, they didn't immediately knock him out again. They needed to give him a full examine, without the interference of drugs. He remembered everything up until the explosion, even being thrown by the explosion, he hadn't suffered any brain damage. His pulse and blood pressure were what they expected, and his breathing was only slightly weak from smoke inhalation.

Matt's biggest problem at the moment was the excruciating pain of having parts of you skin missing, and someone else's dead flesh stapled to you instead. The staples still hurt like hell, but were nothing, nothing, nothing, compared to the raw, red flesh they had served to cover. It felt like his back was still burning, and the burn ointment on the second degree burns on his now bandaged legs didn't really help that much.

He gripped the sheets in his hands and gritted his teeth as the did the exam, praying it would be over quick so they could give him more drugs. Finally a nod the doctor had a nurse pushing the drugs into his IV, before they had him turn on his stomach to exam his back. It was really tedious, as the slowly cut the bandages and pulled them away, and still hurt like hell. He just wanted them to be done so they'd leave him alone, and let him suffer in peace.

Finally the doctor smiled, confirming that everything looked good, as they tend to say, and left the nurse to rewrap him. More tedium, more pain, more of Matt gritting his teeth and biting his tongue so he didn't start cursing at the nurse. After ten minutes of this, Matt was beginning to get very impatient, and was close to yelling at the nurse, when Emily walked in.

He relaxed slightly immediately upon seeing her. She had on street clothes, no more hospital garb; it seemed they'd cleared her to go home. She waited patiently for the nurse to finish before sitting in the chair beside his bed, and taking his hand as she had done the previous night.

"Did they stop giving you pain meds?" she asked, worry written on her face, at seeing the pained expression on his.

"They let the dose from last night wear off so they could examine me this morning. I'm fine, except for the missing skin." He said, the pain making him sound bitter.

"Have they given you anything since?"

"Yeah, about ten minutes ago. It's kicking in now, slower than I'd like. They said if they gave me anything stronger it would knock me out, I didn't really want that." He explained to her.

"Have they told you about your treatment?" She had no idea how much he knew.

"Yeah, I'm stuck here for a while." He said with a clear distaste for the idea.

"I know you hate hospitals, it won't be that long though." She tried to reassure him.

"I know, I know, a week and a half at best, two and a half at worst. The place just makes my skin crawl." He told her, vulnerability showing in his eyes.

"Well you'll have plenty of company. I'm off until Psych clears me, Cheryl's final order to me last night."

"You're a shrink can't you do that yourself?"

"Yeah, right, the Bureau would love that. But I think it's less for my well-being and more to keep me away while OPR investigates the explosion."

"Probably, they can't accuse us of any wrong doing if they can't find us." Matt tried to adjust himself on the bed, wincing frequently. God, was he in pain.

"Matt, why don't you let them knock you out again." Emily suggested worriedly, watching him struggle.

"No, I hate that feeling that I just missed a day, it's too creepy."

"You're in pain, it wouldn't be so bad to miss a day." She insisted.

"Then I couldn't spend it talking to you." He said, trying to sweet-talk her.

"Cute, but we'll have plenty of time to talk. The pain won't be so bad in a couple of days. Save it for then." Emily hated seeing him in so much pain, she'd much rather he slept through it.

"Come here." He told her, awkwardly gesturing toward himself. Emily moved closer to him, leaning toward him, until she was close enough for him reach. He pulled her close and planted a long, heavy kiss on her, which she eagerly returned. Matt didn't care that this put him at a weird angle and twisted his burned back, making the pain worse, it was well worth it. After a couple of minutes he couldn't take it anymore, and pulled away, resting back on the bed, breathing in and out against the throbbing in his back.

"We have to stop that before I try to go home with you." He told her, smiling so she wouldn't know how much that had hurt him.

"You started it." She told him grinning, seeing right through him, his eyes betraying the pain he was in. "Matt let me call a nurse to give you something stronger." She pleaded with him.

"Yeah, okay." He finally agreed. Emily pressed the call button before he could change his mind.

"What can I do for you Mr. Flannery?" A young nurse asked walking in.

"I want stronger drugs. This morning they offered me something to knock me out, I told them no, I want it now." He explained.

"Alright then, let me just take a look at your chart." She picked up the think file, and flipped through it, before speaking again, "I can give you something to put you out for the better part of the day, is that okay with you?"

Matt looked at Emily before answering, "Yeah, that sounds good."

Ten minutes later Matt was out cold, and Emily released his hand, glancing at him one last time before she left. Outside on the hospital grounds Emily found a bench and took her cell phone out, dialing information.

"You've reached information, city please?" A woman asked abruptly.

"Los Angeles."

"Listing name."

"Los Angeles Police Department."

"Hold one moment." She said, and two seconds later and automated message came on, "The number you requested in 555-6161, if you need to hear the number-" Emily hung up before the recording finished quickly dialing the number she was given.

"LAPD how can I help you?" A bored man answered.

"Can I please have the number for your Human Resources Department?"

"Yeah, it's 555-6172, you want me to connect you?" He asked.

"Yes, please." She immediately heard and click and a ringtone.

"LAPD Human Resources." This voice belonged to a very nasally woman.

"Hi, I'm looking for one of your employees, his name is Christopher Flannery."

"I'm sorry ma'am, but we can't hand that information out to just anybody, our personnel are entitled to their privacy." She explained.

"I'm with the FBI, Special Agent Emily Lehman, I work with Matt Flannery, Christopher's brother. Matt's been hurt and I just wanted to let Chris know." Emily offered, hoping the woman would feel sorry and just give her what she needed.

There was a long pause. "What's his name?"

"Christopher Flannery." Emily replied, spelling Flannery for the woman.

"Alright I have a Lieutenant Christopher J. Flannery, is that him?"

"Yes, yes, that's him, do you know what precinct he works out of?"

"He's in narcotics, you want the phone number?"

"Yes, please."

"555-6143, and he is extension 213."

"Thank you so much." Emily said sincerely.

"Sure," the woman replied with disinterest, before hanging up.

Emily plugged the phone number into her phone, watching it appear on her display, but not immediately hitting send. She sat nervously for several minutes wondering what she was supposed to say to him, wondering if he'd care. Matt had never said much about his family, he made it clear he didn't like talking about them, so she didn't press. Rubbing her thumb across the buttons, as if it would alleviate her jitters, she counted to ten before blindly hitting send.

"Narcotics, Flannery." A friendly voice answered.

"Lieutenant Flannery, my name is Emily Lehman, I'm with the FBI. Uh, actually, more importantly, I work with your brother." She paused allowing the information to sink in.

"I haven't spoken to Matt in years." Chris Flannery stated bluntly.

"Uh, I know that. Matt was caught in the explosion at the theatre yesterday. He was burned pretty badly. He's at Mount Hope." Emily just rattled off the information, not knowing what else to say.

"Is he, uh, is he going to be alright?" He showed an awkward sort of concern.

"Yeah, they've been keeping him knocked out most of the time, he's in a lot of pain, but after the skin grafts are done, he'll be fine."

"That's good to hear…Matt's still in the CNU?"

"Yeah, he is…uh, are you going to stop by the hospital?" This was certainly one of the most painfully uncomfortable conversations she'd ever had.

"I don't know. Listen Agent Lehman, Matt and I haven't spoken in years, we aren't actually on good terms…"

"You're brother was almost blown to bits yesterday, doesn't that make you feel a little silly for not talking for so long?" She realized she probably wasn't winning any points with him, but five years was too long.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do, you obviously care a lot about Matt, but you don't know what happened between us. And, no offense, but just because you're screwing my brother, doesn't mean that it's any of your business." He said harshly before hanging up.

Emily sat staring at her silent phone. _Wow, did she ever mess that up._

Sighing Emily got up and decided to go back to Matt's room. He might be sleeping, but she had nothing better to do, and she wanted to be near him. Though she'd never admit it to anyone, she was still shaken from the previous night.

* * *

_I'm so glad people are still reading this story! Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	11. Chapter 11

**Three Days Later**

"Hello Mr. Flannery, are you all ready for your surgery today?" The ever-cheerful nurse asked a less than thrilled Matt.

"I'm ready to be out of this hospital," he told her, after which Emily swatted his arm.

Emily had spent the better part of the last four days in Matt's hospital room. He'd been either knocked out or awake but heavily drugged for most of it, the pain still very strong, but yesterday they'd lowered it considerably. This morning the doctors were preparing to perform the necessary full-thickness grafts, which meant taking all the layers of skin, plus a thin layer of muscle from the front of his thighs and abdomen, and attaching it with a few tiny sutures to his back. He'd be stuck in the hospital at least another week while he healed, and the doctors made sure the grafts took.

"Soon enough Mr. Flannery, for now I'm going to check your vitals one last time, and then send the team in to take you to the OR." She told him, already writing his current vitals on his chart.

Ten minutes later, she was gone and the surgical team was wheeling Matt toward the elevators, Emily close by, holding his hand. The surgery would take about three hours, and Matt would be under a general anesthetic. It was a toss up for which one of them was more nervous.

Emily was biting her lip and twisting her hands nervously as they sent her off to the waiting room. She new it would be a simple procedure that they'd done a hundred times, but that didn't stop the barrage of scenarios in her head. She saw Matt's vitals suddenly bottoming out, the anesthesia stopping his heart, him bleeding out or getting one of those atrocious hospital infections. She was so focused on trying to keep her self calm she'd didn't notice Cheryl was there until her voice made her jump.

"Did they start yet?" Cheryl asked not noticing Emily's state yet, then almost laughing when she saw her jump.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, about ten minutes ago." She said, still biting her lip, and her feet tapping the floor.

"Emily? Are you…alright?" Cheryl asked, slightly amused at how nervous Emily was acting. Psycho with guns has a dozen people hostage, she's fine; her boyfriend goes in for a simple surgery, she can't keep still.

"Yeah, fine, just worried."

"He'll be fine. He survived getting blown up, he can survive a skin graft." Cheryl tried to assure her.

Emily gave her a grateful, though unconvinced look, before grabbing a nearby magazine and flipping through faster than anyone could be expected to read. She wasn't reading the words, or even looking at the pictures; she was just trying desperately to keep her hands, if not mind, busy.

"Excuse me," a man spoke, startling both women, "I'm looking for Matt Flannery, they told me he was up here for surgery?"

"Uh, yeah, they just started...um who are you?" Emily asked the man awkwardly. He had dark brown hair, almost black, and deep, brown eyes, that seemed almost familiar to her.

The man looked at her curiously, looking almost amused for a moment before asking her, "Are you Emily?"

"Yeah, I am, but that doesn't answer my question." Emily didn't mean to be rude, but she really wasn't in the mood to play guessing games.

"Oh, sorry, Chris Flannery." He said holding out his hand, and smiling.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize…I didn't think you were coming." She stammered, slightly red, how did she manage to screw up talking to him twice? Now that Emily knew who he was, the resemblance to Matt was undeniable, especially that smile.

"Yeah, I wasn't going to, but you're right, it's been too long." He explained sadly.

Cheryl looked at the pair curiously. He looked uncomfortable, though he was trying to hide it, and Emily actually looked embarrassed. She was actually surprised that Emily had tracked Matt's brother down, but she couldn't help but think that it was such a sweet thing to do.

"Oh," Emily said suddenly turning to Cheryl, "this is Cheryl Carrera, my and Matt's supervisor, and good friend."

They shook and Chris looked at her curiously, "Did you work with Matt five years ago, your name seems familiar."

"Yeah, I was his partner before I got promoted." She answered, after which a long uncomfortable silence followed, with all three standing staring randomly around. They all sat down after a few minutes to resume waiting, not knowing what to say to each other.

Emily began fidgeting again after a few moments; speed flipping through another magazine, biting her lip, glancing at the clock. Cheryl rolled her eyes, glancing around for a nurse she could flag down for some Valium. Chris was also watching Emily's nervous behavior, and suddenly laughed.

Emily and Cheryl turned to him with curious looks, and waited for him to explain himself.

"I was actually right, wasn't I?" He directed his question at Emily.

"I don't follow?" Now she was more confused, he was right about what?

"You are sleeping with Matt, aren't you?"

"We're involved, yeah." Emily knew it was more than just sex with Matt, regardless if they hadn't admitted it yet.

"Sorry, I the phone I just said it to piss you off, so you wouldn't call again. I didn't realize…wow, okay, um…this whole thing as been terribly awkward. Seeing as how it will already be awkward with my brother, can we start over, pretend we never met?" His voice was slightly pleading, but his eyes smiled, suggesting he found the whole thing amusing.

Emily shrugged, and offered her own smile, "sure, that would be good."

"Hi," he extended a hand, "I'm Chris, thank you for calling me about Matt. I haven't spoken to him in a while, but he's still my brother."

"Emily, and thank you for coming. He won't say much about your history together, but I know it will mean a lot to him that you're here." Emily shook his hand, and dispensed her own pleasant introduction. This was better; this wasn't awkward. Excellent.

Cheryl shook her head in amusement at them. Maybe now Emily would have a distraction, and wouldn't be acting like she was on speed. She joined them as they discussed stories about Matt before he stopped talking to his brother, and the time since Emily knew him. Cheryl supplied the in between time, including the infamous dog story.

An hour of this went by, before a surgeon in blue scrubs came out, pulling off his hat as he walked. Emily was the first to notice, and she immediately jumped out of her seat, almost instantly returning to her nervous mannerisms.

"Mr. Flannery's surgery went very smoothly. We finished the grafts, and the nurses will move him after they finish applying bandages." The doctor smiled at them, confidently.

To say they were relieved would be an understatement. Cheryl relaxed her fisted hands, Chris's body went slightly limp as the tension left it, and Emily stopped biting her lip, and moving her hands.

"We won't know for sure that the grafts were successful until a few days, when we can see if they took, but I'm confident Mr. Flannery will be out of here within a week."

"When can we see him?" Emily wasted no time.

"You can go and wait in his room now, the nurses should return with him shortly." The doctor smiled once more before leaving.

Emily and Cheryl went to leave for Matt's room, but Chris stopped Emily before she walked out of the waiting room.

"Uh, I don't think I'm ready to see him yet. I think it's best if we're both completely lucid for that," he joked, trying to prove seeing his brother again wasn't as big of a deal as it was.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll just…uh, I'll come by in a few days." With that Chris Flannery slunk out of the waiting room.

Emily sighed in annoyance, and shook her head, what would it take for them to reconcile?

"You don't think he'll come back?" Cheryl asked.

"Honestly? I don't know, but I'm leaning towards no."

* * *

**Two Days Later**

Chris Flannery stepped nervously into the hospital that held his brother, determined to see him after five years of pretending the other didn't exist. They hadn't parted on good terms, and as angry as he may still feel toward his brother, his partner, girlfriend, whatever she was, was right. Five years was too long a time. Matt might still hate him, but he'd have to make his brother understand their fight from his perspective. He didn't realize until Emily called him, but Chris wanted his big brother back.

He took his time picking his way through the halls, and finding the elevators to take him up to Matt's floor. Once the lift let him out, he walked slowly down the hall, mentally preparing himself for this meeting. As he approached the door to Matt's room, he slowed considerably, practically stopping. Then he did stop at the door, and remained out of sight, as he watched two figures smiling at each other.

Matt was sitting up in the bed, resting a little off center to give Emily room to sit on the side facing him. One of her arms leaned over him, bracing her in her slightly odd position. Her other hand was joined with his on the side she was sitting on; her back was facing the door. They were laughing over something, enjoying being together even under the circumstances. Chris was about to walk in when Matt's face suddenly turned serious.

He brought his hand up to Emily's face, and let it rest on her cheek a minute as he spoke a few words that Chris couldn't hear. Emily took his hand in hers, and brought it back toward her face, placing a kiss on it. Neither moved for a minute, Chris assumed Emily was speaking, and then Matt brought both his arms up, laying his hands on either side of her. With complete disregard to his injuries, her pulled her against himself.

Chris stood watching the couple, realization turning to surprise in a matter of seconds. He realized why Emily seemed slightly peeved by his reference of her sleeping with his brother, the second time he said it. It was very clear that the couple before him had much more than sexual encounters between them. Chris wondered if his brother was in love. But, he was startled from his thoughts when Emily raised her voice, leaning up now, and appearing upset. He decided to enter then.

"Matt, you're still in pain. In fact you should be on your side or stomach." Emily scolded him..

"I'm tired of laying down Em, and I'm tired of sleeping alone." He replied as fiercely.

"You need to heel, if you're ever going to get out of that bed. Leaning on your back isn't going to help that, and me laying with you will just add pressure, and hurt you more."

"I just want to get out of here already. I hate hospitals." His voice was lower now, a resigned sigh.

"I know you do, just remember, only four or five more days." She squeezed his hand, and he offered her a grateful, though skeptical look.

"You always did practically jump out of your skin in a hospital, Matt." Chris finally eased himself into the room, and allowed his voice to make his presence known.

"Chris?" Matt was shocked and confused at the same time. What was his brother doing here, and how did Chris even know he was here?

* * *

_Just a note, in case anybody is expecting this one to end soon, I gave this one it's title because it's meant to focus more on everything that happens after the fiasco, not as much on the fiasco itself. I know I took my sweet time getting there., but it was fun. Anyway, more to come and thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	12. Chapter 12

"Chris?" Matt was shocked and confused at the same time. What was his brother doing here, and how did Chris even know he was here?

"Yeah, I heard you got yourself blown up, and stopped in when you were in surgery, but I figured it was only fair that you were lucid when I showed my face." He offered a shrug and a grin, as if to say his presence wasn't a big deal. Yeah, right.

"Did you see him?" Matt turned to Emily; she'd never mentioned his brother showing up.

"I didn't know if he was coming back, so I didn't want to mention it."

Matt turned back to his brother, not sure what to say, then blurted out the first thing on his tongue. "So, how'd you know I was here?"

"Emily tracked me down and called me at work. You can imagine what a surprise that phone call was…" Chris had to wonder if this could have been more awkward than it was.

"You called him? Why?" Matt demanded, not pleasantly.

"Because I thought you might like to see him." Emily wasn't put off by his tone, she knew he may not be happy about it, at first.

"We haven't spoken for over five years, you know that, why would I want to see him?" Once again, Matt didn't hide his anger.

"Because you almost died, Matt." She bit back at him.

"So? That's supposed to make our issues go away?" He spit.

"No, that's not what I'm saying. I just-"

Matt cut her off. "You don't know what happened between us, you had no right to call him."

"Because you won't tell me." She was trying not to be angry, but he was making it very difficult.

"It's none of your business!" She'd barely finished speaking when he yelled back, and then Emily had had it for the moment.

"Chris, would you excuse us for a moment?" She turned to him, and asked politely.

"Uh, sure. I'll wait outside." He left them, closely the door behind him.

"Not my business?" Emily turned back to Matt.

"It was a long time ago, before I knew you." He tried to explain what he meant to her, but it didn't seem to be working.

"Matt, do you love me?" Maybe it was that she was irritated at the moment, or maybe it was because she nearly lost him, regardless, Emily was feeling brave.

"What? Yes, of course." The words tumbled out of Matt's mouth before he even realized that they'd never said it before, so she really had no expectation of hearing it.

"That's good, because I'm hopelessly in love with you." She confessed, watching his eyebrows rise.

"Don't look so surprised, I figure that should have been pretty obvious the last few days." She smirked.

"It's just after Mexico, I didn't really expect to hear you say that. At least not anytime soon."

"I'm sorry for that, I got scared."

"Yeah, me too." They were quiet a moment before she returned to her train of thought.

"You should understand that since I am hopelessly in love with you, everything that involves you is now my business. Including feuds." She looked at him pointedly.

"I appreciate that you care, Em. But, me almost dying isn't going to fix the past." His voice was soft, an attempt to get her to understand his feelings on the topic.

"I know that, but…when I woke up in that theatre, came to this hospital, when I saw Frank, and Cheryl and Lia. It was sympathy in their eyes Matt, some concern, but mostly sympathy. I was scared to death whenever I saw one of them, absolutely terrified that they'd tell me you were dead. You don't look at someone like that unless…unless you know something bad happened.

And, then when I finally knew you'd be alright, I thought about who needed to be called for you, and of course your brother came up, and I just…I thought how much worse it would be if we hadn't been speaking at the time. If we'd argued and not spoken for a week, if I thought for even a minute that I may have wasted even a few days I could have had with you. I barely held it together that night Matt, I don't think I could have, if things had been different. I don't want you to ever have to feel that way." After she finished her long-winded explanation, her teeth automatically attacked her bottom lip, as she waited nervously for him to respond.

"Thank you." For a moment that's all he said, too stunned to say anything else. More so than her confession of love had, her words here made Matt really realize how frightened she'd been, and how much she did really care for him. He was about to pull her toward himself again, but thought better of it, and instead leaned up, and met her body halfway, hugging her as tightly as the bandages would allow. She pulled back after a moment.

"So will you talk to Chris? Or at least tell me what's so horrible that you can't talk to your only living relative, aside from your Aunt Shirley?"

"Yes, you're right as usual. Five years is…sad."

"I'm going to get him. Do you need me to hang around?"

"I always need you around." He told her cheekily.

"Cute, Matt. I'm supposed to meet up with my parents, but if you need a mediator, I'll reschedule."

"No, I'm too laid up to kill him, and Chris wouldn't attack somebody defenseless."

She rolled her eyes at his joke, and left to get Chris, returning with the awkward man only minutes later.

"Okay, I'm off to prove to my parents that I'm still in one piece. Call me if you need anything." Emily gave Matt one last kiss, walking out of the room, praying both men would be in one piece when she returned.

* * *

"So…" Chris tried to start a conversation. 

"So…" Matt was at as much of a loss as his brother.

"Emily is really something else." Compliment his brother's choice of girlfriend, seemed safe enough.

"Noticed that did you?" Joking, joking could work.

"I get the feeling she could talk Hitler out of World War II."

"At this point I'd have to agree with you." She'd gotten them to talk to each other, hadn't she?

Chris laughed lightly. "Really, she's great, Matt. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, I'm actually crazy about her," Matt admitted. "You married yet?"

"Me? No way man. I learned all my skills with women from you, Bachelor Extraordinaire, at least you were." Chris grinned at memories of learning to exude the charm, his brother insisted the Flannery men were born with.

"Dating different women all the time can be great, but I have to tell you, already having the one that drives you wild is so much better." Matt had enjoyed his years of one-night stands, random hook-ups, and having several female friends with benefits, but that life was for twenty-somethings. Chris was on his way out of twenty-something hood.

"As long as I can say I'm in my twenties, I'm going to keep the Flannery charm working."

"How do you think I got Emily?" Matt joked, grinning.

"Somehow I think she's too smart to fall for the Flannery charm alone." Chris grinned back, teasing his brother.

"I suppose I have a few other merits to offer, and great sex." Chris laughed at his brother's comment, enjoying that it wasn't too terribly awkward yet.

"So, are we going to talk about five years ago?" Matt finally asked.

"Almost six now, Matt."

"Yeah, I suppose it is. We need to talk about it, if we're going to try to be friends again Chris."

"So, who's starting?"

"I don't regret calling you an ungrateful little bastard." Matt wanted to make that clear off the bat.

"Okay, I guess you are," Chris sighed, bracing himself. "I didn't think you would, and I don't regret not going to dad's funeral."

"He was your father, Chris. He deserved you presence there." Matt looked at his baby brother sternly.

"See, that's what you never got, Matt. He was never a father to me."

"He raised you, put a roof over your head, clothes on your back, and food on your plate, what else were you looking for?"

"A guy that actually did those things." Chris answered quietly.

"What are you talking about?" Matt was confused now, and a little irritated.

"He put a roof over my head, but he didn't raise me, Matt. Aunt Shirley took me to get clothes when I needed them, and you did the grocery shopping because dad was either working or drinking."

"You were too hard on him, Chris. He lost his wife, the love of his life, he was suffering. Maybe you don't understand, because you were only six when mom died, too young to get it, but it hurt like hell." Matt looked off toward the window, not eager to relive his mother's death.

"Maybe your right. But, the opposite applies to dad. You were 12, you had a dad, you remembered what he was like before mom went. My image of dad is a guy that was never around, or drunk and yelling when he was," Chris paused for a moment to breathe, "you were never mad at him?"

"I suppose I was a little angry as a kid, since it fell to me to take care of you. Getting you to do your homework was a pain in the ass, up there with getting you to eat broccoli. I think I was more angry with you though, and mom."

"I suppose you hated me because I existed, but why mom?" Chris wondered.

"I didn't hate you because you existed, I hated you because you couldn't take care of yourself. And mom, she died and left us. I blamed her for dad being a depressed mess, and having to play parent to you. If she hadn't died, dad would have been fine, you would have had a mother." He shrugged, as if it wasn't as big a deal as it was.

"Fair enough," he paused, thinking, "Matt, did you ever think that maybe I wasn't ungrateful, I just wasn't grateful to him? Because I was, but I had no reason to be to him."

"He's your father, Chris."

"That's like saying a kid conceived from donor sperm should be grateful to the guy holding a Playboy and jerking off into the plastic cup."

"Okay, first that kid wouldn't be here without that guy and his plastic cup; second, I think dad did a bit more for you than donate sperm."

"Maybe, but it wasn't much, Matt. The person I should be grateful to is you. You raised me, dad was just the guy that supplied money, screamed occasionally, and passed out on the couch often."

"Maybe so, but Chris, he was your father, it was his funeral, you should have gone anyway."

"I was 23 and pissed Matt, out on my own, and glad to be rid of the old man. I was too angry with him to give him the satisfaction of mourning over him, even if I lost my big brother because of it."

"If I forgive you for bailing on the funeral, will you forgive me for hitting you?" Not long after Matt had called his brother an ungrateful bastard, he'd back-handed him, something that had weighed heavily on him over the years.

"Yes, I forgave you for that years ago," Chris paused and grinned, "But, I still don't regret not going to the funeral."

"And, I still don't regret calling you an ungrateful little bastard." Matt smiled.

"We'll just say that's repressed anger from when we were kids coming out." He laughed.

* * *

_I'm still wondering if the show will ever tell us the issues between Matt and his brother, but in the meantime, I decided to go with something that could potentially apply to the characters' history, rather than the cliche, 'both in love with the same woman' thing. Besides, Matt has Emily, so it would be kind of irrelevant at this point right? Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	13. Chapter 13

"I really had a great time, mom. I just want to get back to the hospital to check on Matt." Emily explained, trying desperately to extricate herself from her over-protective parents' dinner. They'd finished eating dessert over an hour and a half ago.

"It's so late now, you think they'll let you in to see him?"

"I have a badge, and if that doesn't work, I also have a gun." She answered, waiting for her mother's horror.

"Emily!"

"Kidding mom." Meanwhile, her father was laughing at the two of them.

"You always did know how to press your mother's buttons."

"It's a talent," she grinned at him. "But, I really do need to get there if I want any chance of seeing him."

"Well, I'd like to meet him, we'll go with you." Her father started laughing again, knowing that was not what his daughter had in mind.

"He's in bad shape mom, you really want to meet him now?" Oh, poor Matt, how was she going to make this up to him?

"Well yes, he's obviously important to you, so I think it's important we meet him." She ended her matter-of-fact explanation with a very succinct nod.

"Do you think it's really fair to him to have to meet you two, when he's wrapped in ten feet of bandages and wearing a dress than exposes his ass?" Emily was running out a ways to hold her mother back, and Matt was not going to like this.

"He'll be in a bed, won't he? It will be very quick, Emily."

"Alright, alright. Let's go, you guys can follow me there." Emily threw her hands up, and grabbed her purse and keys, striding out the door.

She pulled out of the drive and waited for her parents to start out, before accelerating down the road. Checking her rearview every so often to make sure they were still there, Emily finally guided her car to the parking lot. She met them by their car, and led the way, albeit grudgingly, to the hospital, and up to the floor Matt was on.

"Sorry folks, visiting hours are over." A nurse told them as they walked off the elevator. Emily was slightly relieved, she didn't know this one, which means she could pretend to have a FBI-related reason to be there. She held up her ID and announced.

"Special Agent Lehman, here to see Special Agent Flannery."

The nurse looked her and her parents up and down. "And these two are?"

"His parents, they just flew in from the East Coast." Emily lied, praying her mother wouldn't blow it.

"Alright, go ahead, but you can't stay too long." She nodded them down the hallway.

Once a few feet down the hallway, Emily's mother just had to chastise her. "Emily you just blatantly lied to that woman!"

"You wanted to meet Matt, right?" She answered, pointing to the room they'd stopped in front of.

"Fine, your right." She conceded.

"Let me go in and talk to him first. I don't want to just spring this on him." She didn't actually wait for them to respond, just pushed open the door and went inside.

Matt was resting on his side, facing the door, his back to Chris, who sat slumped back and passed out on the chair beside the bed. He stopped his bored channel flipping as soon as he saw Emily, thrilled at the prospect of a distraction.

"So, I guess everything went well?" She gestured toward the sleeping figure.

"Yes, we're back on speaking terms, and actually had a good time. Thank you." He told her taking her hand.

"Don't thank me yet. My parents are here." She cringed as she spoke.

"What?"

"Yeah, I was trying to get out of there to come visit you, and I told them as much. My mother insisted on coming to meet you." Emily was still cringing as she spoke, making a mental note to dig out her Victoria's Secret card; when he was better, she'd be making it up to him.

"I have to meet them, like this?" he gestured, distressed, at his attire.

"I tried to tell her, I really did," she answered, quite pained. Then she smiled suddenly, "But, you know, you do have the wounded hero thing going for you."

"Wounded hero thing?" He asked unconvinced.

"Yeah, after you helped those kids get out, you came looking for me, and have the wounds to prove it. They'll both already like you for that."

Matt brought his hands up to his face, "Okay, I don't suppose I have a choice here. You owe me."

"Already plotting how to repay you." She told him giving him a kiss, before leaving to retrieve her parents.

"Matt, these are my parents, Henry and Beth Lehman. Mom and Dad, this is Matt, and his brother Chris, is sleeping in that chair." Emily made introductions with less than enthused gestures.

"It's a pleasure to meet you ma'am, sir." Matt said politely, nodding at both.

"It wonderful to finally meet the young man that's got Emily smiling so much." Henry Lehman smiled at Matt.

Matt shot a curious look at Emily, and wondered when was the last time anybody referred to him as a 'young man'. Emily meanwhile, rolled her eyes heavenward, praying they wouldn't embarrass her too much.

"Yes, Matt, it so good to meet you, seeing as you got blown up trying to save our daughter." Beth Lehman also smiled at him.

Emily raised her eyebrows at him in a smug, I-told-you-so look. He shot her back a look that suggested an impatient I-got-that.

"And I'd do it again, ma'am." He answered, as a blush began spreading across Emily's cheeks.

"Isn't that sweet. You seem like a good man, and honestly, that's a nice change, Emily's taste in men is usually so terrible."

"Thanks mom." Emily commented sarcastically.

"Well, it's true. They tend to be losers or jailbirds." Beth insisted.

"God mom, one guy I dated got sent to juvy when he was fifteen for stealing a car and joyriding." Emily sighed, shaking her head in resignation. And, this was painful for Matt? Yeah, right.

The man in question was now laughing at the exchange, and at the image now implanted in his head of Emily on the back of a Harley with some badboy, ex-con. Not his Princess from Princeton.

"Well, we better let you get some sleep, we just wanted to meet you. You know, put a name to a face." Beth told him, smiling.

"Well, I appreciate the visit, ma'am." Matt was on his best behavior, even if he was lying.

"We'll have to get together when you're better, so we can get to know you." She told him.

"That sounds wonderful." Matt didn't know what else to say, but decided to keep up his mega-politeness.

"Well, goodnight Matt. Good night sweetie." Emily hugged her mother and father, bidding them goodnight.

"Take care Matt," Henry nodded at his daughter's boyfriend.

"Thank you, you too, and goodnight to you both." Matt offered a wave to Emily parents as they walked out the door.

"They seem nice." He told Emily.

"Speak for yourself. I evidently date losers and jailbirds, present company excluded." She gave him a sardonic grin.

"Oh, she wasn't being nasty, just protective. I don't want you dating losers or jailbirds either." He told her pulling her down, to sit next to him on the bed.

"Yeah, well, I told you that they would like you."

"You did, you're right, you usually are."

"I know." She grinned at him.

He looked at her for a minute, "so, I make you smile?"

In place of a verbal answer, Emily initiated a slow, deep kiss, which Matt responded to fully, both losing themselves for a moment. Then Emily suddenly remembered their company, and somewhat reluctantly broke away from him.

"You think maybe you should wake up your brother now?" She asked looking over toward him.

Matt shrugged, but yelled to his brother, "Yo Chris, wake up!"

"Real nice Matt." Emily said, rolling her eyes.

"Chris!" He yelled again, jolting the young man.

"Wha-what?!"

"You feel asleep, I assume you have work tomorrow?"

"Actually no, I told my Captain that my brother was one of the agents in the bomb on the news, he gave me today and tomorrow off. So, I'm all yours." He grinned.

"Good, you can smuggle me in beer and burgers."

"Matt, you're on a truckload of pain meds and antibiotics, you can't have alcohol." Emily chastised him.

"Fine, you can smuggle me in a burger," Matt told him, and added under his breath, "Frank will just have to smuggle in the beer."

"I heard that, and I'll just threaten him, or have Cheryl threaten him, he's scared of her."

"Fine, no beer."

Then they noticed Chris was laughing, "how long have you two been married now?"

Matt and Emily glared at him, and Matt stretched an arm out to barely smack him.

"You two may not have anything to do tomorrow, but I have an appointment with a Bureau shrink tomorrow morning." Emily announced her need to depart.

"Good luck with that." Chris told her cringing at the idea.

"I'm surprised that didn't make you go in sooner." Matt said.

She shrugged, "I suppose they were trying to seem less pushy."

"That might work if they weren't pushing the shrink on you."

"Oh come on Matt, it's just so they can make sure we won't snap during our next negotiation." She chose not to mention that she'd been having nightmares on and off since the first night she got out of the hospital.

"I don't care, I hate seeing the FBI shrinks. You think they'd just let you evaluate me?"

"You're a shrink?" Chris wondered, looking at her.

"I studied psychology, but I don't act as a Bureau shrink. And, no Matt, we're sleeping together, remember? Slight conflict of interests there?"

"Too bad," he pouted.

Emily rolled her eyes, before giving him a kiss, promising to visit tomorrow and heading home.

"Man, you're pathetic," Chris laughed, watching his brother, staring after Emily.

"What?"

"She walked out the door two seconds ago, and you already look like somebody shot your puppy."

"Shut up," Matt told him annoyed, before returning to flipping channels, his brother still firmly planted in the chair beside him.

* * *

_So this is kind of an odd little detour, and much needed break from all the angst I've been writing lately. Anyway, hope you all enjoyed, or at least didn't mind it. Thanks for reading, and reviews make my day brighter._


	14. Chapter 14

The next morning Emily nervously made her way into the tiny office the FBI allowed their resident psychiatrist. There wasn't even a waiting room, though she supposed this was a good thing; there wasn't a lot of demand in the Bureau for therapy. She knocked softly on the door to make her presence known, before being waved in and instructed to shut the door behind her. Emily had only had to do this once, before she transferred to L.A., and then it had been a piece a cake. She had no problems, nothing to hide, and dealt with the crisis she'd been in just fine.

Now a woman who was about her age with ash brown hair, and lively blue eyes dug through a pile of folders on her desk for what would undoubtedly be Emily's. Dr. Nora Murphy pulled the folder out, gave it a quick once over to remind herself who she was seeing, and grabbed her pen and pad, ready to take notes. She turned to Emily, smiled and just sat silently for a minute, until Emily figured that she better start speaking.

"Uh, I was sent here to make sure I wasn't traumatized after the bombing of the Imax theatre." What was this woman expecting her to say?

"Why did you say it like that?" Nora asked her, regarding her curiously.

"Like what?" Now Emily was confused. Damn it, she was a shrink too, she should be quicker than this.

"You said 'the bombing' as if you were removed from it. You were in the building when it blew, weren't you?"

"Yes, I guess I was."

"You guess you were? Weren't you cowering under a row of seats when the bomb went off?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call it cowering. If I hadn't jumped under those seats I'd probably be dead." Emily could tell she was beginning to sound defense, so she took a breath to calm herself.

"You know I didn't mean anything by that?"

"Yeah…"

"Emily do you feel guilty for surviving?"

"What? No, of course not." She was startled by that question. Did she feel guilty? Should she feel guilty?

"Do you feel guilty that you walked away less scathed than your partner?" Nora was studying her now, acting as if maybe she'd stumbled on to something.

"No, well, maybe. I don't know, Matt's fine, that's all that matters."

"You're romantically involved with your partner, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, ducking under those seats when you knew he pretty close to that bomb, that must have been hard for you to do?"

"I had to, I would have died." _Stop getting defensive_, she chastised herself.

"Emily, I'm not saying you did anything wrong. But, I think you feel like you did."

Emily refused to comment, just stared back at the FBI shrink. If she'd known it would be like this, she would have, well, done something to make it less aggravating.

"Okay, why don't we switch topics for a minute. How have you been otherwise?"

"Um, I've been fine." She considered mentioning her nightmares, but really just wanted to get out of there.

"Really? No flashbacks, nightmares, no jumpiness?"

"No, I don't have PTSD."

"Hmm, I forgot you've been trained in psychology." Nora smiled at her, seemingly not bothered by the fact.

"Yes, I was." Her tone suggested a distinct absence of bullshit.

"Well, then you'll also remember that you can experience any one of those, and not have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. So, I can tell something is bothering you, what's been going on."

Emily stared for another minute, before sighing and giving in. "Nightmares. I've been having nightmares."

"Okay, can you tell me about them?"

"They're different each night. In one the kids never made it out, they were all dead. I remember sifting through the debris with HRT and just pulling out these charred fragments of bodies, arms, legs…"

"Was that the first one you had?" She asked taking notes.

"Um, no. In the first one…uh, it played out like it actually did. I came to, and I could here Frank call my name. They found me, pulled me out, and wouldn't answer me when I asked about Matt. I got to the bottom of the theatre and there was this blackened, charred corpse, except for his eyes. I could still see his eyes." Emily closed her eyes and shuttered remembering the dream. It had been the most chillingly real, and so close to what had happened.

"Have you had any others?"

"Yeah, a few." Emily didn't feel like offering more information, she wasn't comfortable under the doctor's intense gaze.

"About Matt?"

"Um, mostly."

"Any more about the kids?"

"No, it was just the one."

"So the ones not about Matt or the kids, what were they?"

"Um, just one, I was stuck under the seats and debris. I couldn't get out, and they couldn't hear me to find me. I was just stuck there."

"Okay, and how many have you had involving Matt?" She was still writing notes one her pad, making Emily even more nervous.

"Uh, I think four."

"And it's been a week since the incident?"

"Yeah, seven days to the dot."

"So every night except one you've had a nightmare, mostly about Matt, right?"

"Yeah, the first night, I didn't dream."

"Any idea why you might be having these dreams."

"I'd say it's my mind adjusting itself to being out of that building, that situation."

"And on the dreams about the kids and you, I agree with that. What about all the dreams about Matt, why do you think you're having them?"

"Um, it was harder with Matt. Frank wouldn't tell me if he was alright, I had to beg him, but he didn't know anyway. Cheryl didn't know, she was at the scene, and when I got to the hospital Lia didn't know, and then the doctors didn't know. Then it was he's fine for now, but drugged for days until he can take the pain, then it was surgery for skin grafts, and we won't know if they worked for a couple of days."

"All that waiting must be hard on you."

"I manage." She was not liking this one little bit, everything that shrink said felt like an attack, cloaked maybe, but still an attack.

Nora nodded, and jotted something down, before looking up from her pad, "So, what have you been doing to keep busy these last few days?"

"Visiting Matt a lot, saw my parents, a few friends, I tracked down Matt's brother, uh..."

"Why did you have to track him down?"

"They hadn't spoken in five years, but I figured he should know his brother almost died."

"Why did you think he needed to know that?" Nora seemed infuriately relaxed to Emily, who was growing more nervous by the minute.

"Because he's his brother."

"So? You said they hadn't spoken for five years."

"Exactly." Emily could talk circles too.

Nora raised an eyebrow in question, and like before waited silently for Emily to speak.

"I just...how much worse would it have been if I had had to tell Chris that Matt was dead? That he'd never get to fix things, that he'd wasted five years he could have had with him?"

"But, Matt didn't die."

"I know that, but he could have."

"And that scares you." _Damn woman, she knew exactly where this was going_, Emily thought annoyed.

"Yes, it does."

"And it scares you that he could have died because he came in after you." They weren't even questions, Nora knew she was right.

"Yes."

"And, that is why you feel guilty." Emily looked at her, and sighed.

"Yes."

"What if that had been SAC Carrera in the building?"

"What?" Emily was suprised and confused by the question.

"Do you think Matt would still have gone in?"

"For Cheryl? Of course...oh, I see. You're saying I shouldn't feel guilty, because Matt would have gone in even if it wasn't me."

"I'm not saying you should or shouldn't feel anything."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm merely bringing some things to your attention."

"With an agenda."

Nora looked at her amused a minute, "that's what being a shrink is."

"So are we done here?"

"Not quite. I want to go back to these nightmares for a minute."

Emily didn't try to mask her aggravated sigh, "What about them?"

"I want you to tell me about your other three dreams." Nora completely ignored her patience mood.

"Okay, in one I woke up in the hospital, and they told me he was dead, in another when the doctor finally came out of the burn ward to talk to us, he said Matt was dead, and...and in the last one, I came to in the theatre, and I saw HRT gathered around something, but they wouldn't let me see what. They wouldn't tell me, and kept holding me back, and I knew it was him, I knew he was dead, but they just wouldn't tell me, they wouldn't let me see." Emily suddenly grew quiet, realizing that she'd gotten a bit worked up at the memory of the dream.

Nora nodded, seemingly satisfied for the moment. "Alright Emily, you can go back to work, but I'm not going to clear you for field work yet."

"What? Why?" Emily demanded back at her. What did she do wrong?

"I think you need to give yourself some more time to deal with what you've been through. But, I would like to see you again. How about in a week?"

"A week? You expect my head to take that long to right itself?"

"You'll know if Matt's graphs worked in a few days. That gives you a few nights before you come in again. I want to see if you have fewer nightmares, that's all." Nora packed up her folder and notebook, as if this meeting had been the easiest, most pleasant experience of her life, and she did not just chain Emily to a desk for a week.

"Fine, a week, same time?" She just desperately wanted to get out of there.

"That will be fine. And, Emily? You aren't being punished." This was the problem with her job, these agents always felt like they were being punished when she didn't sign off on them. And, she could never convince them otherwise.

"Right, thanks." Emily mumbled, rising from the chair she'd been in, and leaving quickly. If nothing else, at least Matt would have plenty of company for another week.

* * *

"Hey, how'd your appointment with the shrink go?" Matt greeted her with a smile, and open arms.

Emily stepped into his arms and kissed him, stepping back a moment later. "I hate shrinks."

Matt laughed at her, "what happened to 'it's just so they can make sure we won't snap'?"

"She won't sign me off to go back to field duty."

Matt got suddenly serious. "What? Why?"

Emily shook it off, "nothing, just time coping or something."

"Em, you not being able to repeat what she told you in the same terminology is a dead give away that you're lying to me."

"It's nothing, Matt. Really, don't worry."

"Obviously it's something if you don't want to tell me."

"It's nothing, she just thinks I need more time." Emily insisted, not wanting to reveal the real reason.

"Okay, but why does she think you need more time? And how much more?"

"She wants to see me in a week."

"You'll be magically better after having another week to stew?"

"I don't need to get 'better', Matt. I'm not sick." She demanded.

"Fine, you know what I mean. She doesn't think you have post-traumatic stress or whatever it's called, does she?" He was getting a little worried now. Emily hadn't mentioned she was having trouble dealing.

"No, I don't have PTSD. I'm fine, really."

"Em, you know you can talk to me, right?"

"Yes, I do. Thank you, but I'm fine." She bent and kissed him again, hoping to end the argument.

"Wow, oops. Sorry to interrupt." Frank stopped his entrance to the room at the sight of the kissing couple. Duff was close behind, snickering.

"It's alright, come in." Emily sighed at the juvenile HRT agents, but was thrilled by their presence. Matt wouldn't question her while they were there.

"We come baring burgers and beer."

"What? Matt!" Emily admonished him.

"Kidding Emily, go easy on the poor guy, he was blown up."

"I know that, and all the wonderful medication he's on because of it means he can't drink."

"Don't worry, no matter how much he begs, we would never give in." Frank laughed at her protectiveness.

"There was no begging. In fact all I asked for was the burger." Matt had no desire to piss Emily off, and quite possibly do himself more damage, just for beer.

"What happened to Chris?" She asked, remembering it was the younger Flannery that was supposed to be smuggling the burger in.

"He got called in, one of his snitches fell into something big, and they want to move on it while it's still hot." Matt was already pulling open the Applebee's box that Frank had tossed unceremoniously on his food tray.

"That's what you wanted so badly, that it needed to be smuggled in?" Emily wondered as she looked at the slightly squished sandwich dripping grease.

"It goes better with a beer, but yes, after all the crap I've had to endure here, I needed something dripping with flavor." He told her taking a bite, grease squeezing from the burger on to the cardboard box.

"And grease, apparently." She told him, nodding to the puddle in his box.

"The more grease the better it is, Emily." Duff informed her, snagging one of Matt's fries.

"Exactly. Here try some." Matt held the burger toward her.

"No thanks." She shook her head, still marveling over the grease.

"Just try it." He insisted. She gave him a look.

"I'm going to pester you until you try the burger."

"Oh fine." She threw her hands up, and moved closer so she could take a bite.

Frank and Duff watched the exchange with great amusement.

"You like it?" Matt asked, watching her chew, and wipe the grease from her mouth.

She nodded, "yes, it's good."

"He fed her, isn't that cute?" Duff asked, teasingly.

"Nauseatingly." Frank agreed, laughing at the irritated looks they were now getting from both negotiators.

* * *

_All I remember of my one psychology class is some stuff on Freud, so I did my best to write the shrink. Emily will see her again, and Matt will have to face the music too, so if anybody can correct me, I'd be greatful. Otherwise thanks for reading, and my gratitude to those that review. _


	15. Chapter 15

**Four days later**

The doctor smiled as he marked something on Matt's chart, having finally finished his exam. The nurse was busy applying fresh bandages to the burns, and Matt was busy pretending all the manhandling wasn't bothering him.

"Okay Matt, I have good news." The doctor looked to him smiling.

"Unless you're saying I can go home, I don't care." He raised his arms uncomfortably as the nurse wound the gauze around him.

"You know what? Hold that thought for a moment." The doctor poked his head out the door and called to Emily, who was pacing outside the door, on the verge of biting her nails.

Her head shot up, and she followed him into the room without question after his hand beckoned her.

"I needed both of you in here for this," He explained.

"Why? What happened? What's wrong?" Emily demanded nervously.

"Nothing, you can relax. I just have care instructions, I assume you'll be staying with him once we release him?"

"Yes, I'll stay with him," she answered without waiting for Matt to respond.

"Alright then, Matt we're releasing you today."

Matt's head flew up form the spot he was staring at boredly, "Sweet."

"I have ointment that should go on after you shower, and I want the bandages during the day for the first week, we'll see how it goes after that. Emily, you may need to help him with either or both. Any questions?" He looked between them.

"So he's okay, the grafts worked?" Emily winced as she posed the question, not quite ready to believe the nightmare over.

"Yep, and healing nicely."

Emily closed her eyes and let the tension seep from her body. Matt was healing, he was going to be fine.

"Great, so when can I go?" Matt broke the odd silence that descended.

"Let me just start the paperwork." He smiled at the pair, and left with Matt's chart in his hands.

"You'll need stuff from your apartment, why don't you get it while we're waiting?" Matt suggested.

"You sure, I don't mind waiting with you." Emily offered, wondering at him.

"No, it's fine. Go ahead." He nodded toward the door.

"O-okay." Emily went through the door, now confused. Why did he want her to leave?

Matt felt slightly relieved after she left, and a bit guilty. It wasn't that he didn't want her with him, it was that he did, but couldn't. He wasn't even sure of his own thoughts right then, but he knew that happy as he was to get home, the thought that Emily would be with him was terrifying.

He knew contrary to outward appearances he wasn't handling this well, but that was just his Oscar-caliber performance. He was extremely jumpy, and felt nervous frequently, always expecting that bomb to go off again. He would drift off for a moment into the site and suddenly find himself sweaty and his heart pounding. He kept the TV loud just to avoid his own thoughts, though he couldn't concentrate on the picture. He was a mess. He was damaged goods at this point, in need of extensive repair, and Emily certainly didn't need that in her life. But, he was too much of a coward to tell her to go, because he needed her so badly.

It had been fine when they were in the hospital, they were fine, but it was a different world in the hospital. She didn't have to help take care of him here, and she never saw his scars. At home he'd be a burden, at the least, and when he zoned out and came back panting, she finally see how badly that situation had fucked with his head. He couldn't do that to her, and he wouldn't if he loved her as he had confessed he did. But, dear god, he needed her now more than ever, and he selfishly couldn't bring himself to tell her to go.

That wasn't all that scared him. During his duration at the hospital he wanted nothing more than to have her crawl on that bed with him so they could make love long into the night. But, he'd known that wasn't possible, so he'd settled for deeply passionate kisses. Now that he was going home, with her, he didn't want either. Those kisses would inevitably lead to more passionate sex, and then she would see his scars. She hadn't seen them yet. He was afraid that when she did, she would see that he was as damaged and ugly outside as he was inside. Then she certainly wouldn't want him anymore.

* * *

Emily had returned to the hospital just before the doctor came in with the papers for Matt to sign. After which, he left them a small bag with the ointment, bandages, and a prescription for painkillers if Matt should need it. Then Emily had driven them back to Matt's apartment in a awkwardly silent car-ride, which gave way to an awkwardly silent day in Matt's apartment. Emily fled after two hours to go get Matt's painkiller prescription, and upon returning had busied herself first cleaning, then cooking dinner.

They ate in the incessant silence, Matt leaving the TV on just to have some noise. She made spaghetti and garlic bread from scratch, just to busy herself. She was at least pleased to see Matt gobble it down like he hadn't eaten in a week. He was thrilled to pieces to have something other than the hospital gruel to put in his mouth. After dinner they went back to the TV, watching some drama on TNT and sitting as far apart as the couch would let them.

When Emily began to yawn, Matt caught it and followed with a giant yawn of his own, leaving them to look toward each other, shrug and wordlessly decide on bed. Never in the relationship had it felt more awkward to lay down together. Rather than curl around each other like they normally would have, they crawled under the sheets on opposite sides and laid awake in the dark. Worse than sleeping alone was sharing a bed with someone you couldn't manage a conversation with. Eventually, after some tossing, turning, and avoiding bumping into each other, both fell asleep.

Later in the night Emily woke with a start, her heart racing, sweat soaking her clothing and covering her body, chilling her. She had been back there, had been stuck again under those chairs, unable to move to get out, and struggling to breathe through the smoke. She'd gotten out just enough to see a scorched corpse laying short distance away, brown eyes staring at her.

Emily sat up in bed, looking around anxiously, assuring herself that she was only in Matt's bedroom. He lay a foot away from her, eyes closed, chest rising and falling in the easy rhythm of sleep. Wearily she rose and standing slowly to work out the jelly feeling in her legs, she scampered to the kitchen.

Holding on to the counter with one hand, she twisted the cold knob on and filled a glass. She could feel the cool of the water as she lifted the glass to her lips, and felt it wash down her throat and into her belly. When the rhythm of her heart began to slow to normal, she rested the glass in the sink and scurried back to the bedroom, eager for the warmth of the sheets.

Still shaken from the dream, Emily chose to ignore the awkwardness between them, and scooted close to Matt. Not satisfied by just being close to him, she draped and arm over him, and spooned around him, drifting off easily.

* * *

The next morning Emily blinked awake to find Matt once again a foot away, glued to the edge of the bed, and herself alone in the middle. That was not normal. When they fell asleep wrapped together, they woke up wrapped together, even if it wasn't the same position. They were like magnets, finding each other's bodies easily even in sleep. That meant that Matt had purposely rolled away from her during the night, and that hurt. Though fortunately Emily didn't have the time to contemplate this before an obnoxious screeching sounded from the night table. Matt's first appointment with the shrink was today. Lucky Matt.

"Matt," Emily rubbed his shoulder gently, trying to wake him.

"Huh?" He grunted, blinking his eyes.

"You have to see the shrink this morning remember?"

"Right, right." He sat up yawing and looking around. He noticed he was on the very edge of the bed, and Emily watching him from hers. He knew why he was so close to the edge, he'd moved away from her in the night. Try as she might to hide it, he saw the hurt in her eyes. Damn.

He yawned for show, though he was completely awake now, "Gonna grab a shower."

She only nodded, but as he looked back he saw her gaze drift to his side of the bed, sadness and confusion radiating in her eyes. Damn.

Thirty minutes later Matt was waiting outside the shrink's office and Emily was sipping her third cup of coffee, still in her pajamas. What were they going to do with each other?

* * *

"Matt?" A woman hurriedly approached where he was standing.

"Yeah." She was pretty Matt noticed, her blue eyes were as lively as her smile. Once upon a time Matt might have deflected the conversation they were about to have by flirting with her, and he likely would have succeeded. But now the only woman he had an interest in flirting with was the redhead he'd left in his apartment that morning.

"Great, come on in. Sorry I'm late." She unlocked the door and waved him in.

"No problem."

"Well in that case, let's just jump right in. How've you been?" Dr. Nora Murphy smiled at him, after retrieving a notepad and pen.

"Fine."

"Fine?" She didn't look impressed with his answer.

"Good I guess," he looked at her for a approval, received none, and continued, "great, I've been great."

"Some of you skin was charred off, I'd hardly consider that great."

"Well considering that, I've been doing pretty well."

"Since you're out of the hospital, I'm assuming the skin grafts took?"

"Yeah, just healing up at home now before I can go back to work." Matt allowed his gaze to drift around the room, completely uninterested in speaking with the doctor in front of him.

"With Emily?" She spoke loudly to get his attention back on her.

"Uh yeah, she's staying with me awhile."

"So she's going back to her apartment when you're well?"

"Not sure, we haven't really discussed it." Matt shifted uncomfortably.

"Do you want her to stay?"

Matt was silent, his mouth opening slightly and closing again every so often.

"Before the explosion, how many nights a week did you and Emily spend together?"

"Depends on the week." Matt hated shrinks, so it was simply in his nature to be very difficult.

This didn't seem to bother the one in front of him. "Give me an average."

"Uh, six?" he ventured.

"Are you asking me? Because I'm fairly certain only you and Emily can answer that."

"No, no, it's about six nights."

"So it would figure that, barring the absence of work, and addition of medical care, what you have now if fairly normal for you two?"

"I suppose, sure."

Nora sat a moment, watching him. "Alright then Matt, I'd like to talk to you about the incident."

"So talk." She watched as he looked away, even less pleased with this topic.

"You seem agitated."

"Thank you Dr. Obvious. I was blown up, it's not a topic I'd really like to discuss."

She ignored his barb. "Well, we could discuss Emily some more?"

He shot her a you win glare, "Fine, explosion. It sucked."

"Have you been sleeping okay at night?" She would address his problems with his girlfriend during their next appointment, right now his reactions to the bomb were more important.

"I'm not having nightmares."

"Well that's good to hear. Otherwise, have you been falling asleep normally."

Matt looked at the floor, "It takes longer than it used to, sometimes over half and hour."

"Okay," she jotted something down. "Do you stay asleep after that?"

"Sometimes."

"How do you feel when you wake up in the middle of the night?"

"Confused, worried, startled, and sometimes, like I just drank a pot of coffee."

"You also get a bit jumpy during the daytime, don't you?" She'd been watching him carefully since he came in.

"Sometimes, yeah." His eyes hadn't moved from the floor.

"Is there anything else you should tell me Matt?" She was fully expecting a firm 'no' from him.

"No, not a thing." He once again shifted his position and also allowed his eyes to wander the room, musing over the pictures on the walls.

"I don't believe you, there's something else going on. I need to know what it is."

"I told you there's nothing."

"And I told you, I don't buy it. I'm well-trained Matt, I know when you're lying."

He gave her a weak half-glare, and ran a hand through his hair, before blowing into his palms. "Fine, I drift off sometimes and end up back there, the theatre. When I come back out of it, my heart is speeding and my chest feels tight. Happy?"

"Delirious. How often does this happen?"

"Uh, I don't know, I had a lot of free time in the hospital so two or three times a day."

"Has it happened yet today?"

"No."

"What kinds of things have you been doing when this happens?"

"Well, being in that explosion wasn't really easy to forget, so I was thinking about it on most of those occasions."

"What else?"

"Uh, I guess…um, watching a report of a fire on the news, reading a note Emily left me, getting my bandages changed…I can't really recall anything else."

"Can you elaborate on the last one, the bandage change?"

"Sure, okay. The nurse came in, set up her supplies, helped me pull off the gown, removed the old bandages, cleaned the wound and applied some burn goo. Two paramedics went by with a stretcher, they were running and couldn't make a turn, the gurney twisted and went crashing to the ground. I saw the whole thing, I was trying to ignore the pain when she removed the bandages and applied the cream. Then she put on the new ones."

"Matt, are you familiar with the term PTSD?" She asked him calmly.

"Post-traumatic stress." He answered, not liking where this was going.

"Disorder, yeah that's it. You seem to be exhibiting some of the signs. It's possible that these are simply after effects, I'm not diagnosing you yet, but I'd like to spend some more time with you." She leaned in close as she explained, as if that would make it easier to hear.

It didn't.

"Aww, that's sweet Doc, but I already got a girl," Matt gave his best Jimmy Stewart impression.

"Isn't she lucky," Nora commented playful sarcasm in her voice.

"Yeah," Matt mumbled, clearly unconvinced, "real lucky."

The doctor glanced at the clock; time was nearly up. That comment would have to wait to be addressed. "Alright Matt, I want you to keep a journal of sorts for me. Just when you wake up in the middle of the night, when you find yourself back at the bomb scene, when you feel agitated, write it down, what you were doing, and how you felt before, after, and during."

"You're giving me homework?" He whined, taking the composition book she handed him. God he hated shrinks.

"Yes. I think we'll end with that. I want to see you in a four days Matt." She smiled at him, as if she hadn't just invaded his head against his will.

"You think I'm so screwed up, you want to see me twice a week?" He looked depressed at the thought.

"Don't think of it that way, Matt. Just think of it as me enjoying your company."

Matt rolled his eyes and shook his head as he walked out of the office. God, he really hated shrinks, ever since his dad made him see one when his mom died.

* * *

"Hey, how'd it go?" Emily greeted him, smiling, as he came in.

"Great," he told her, plastering on a fake smile.

"Oh…that's good to hear." She could tell that he was lying, and that bothered her. Why would he lie to her?

He offered no explanation, simply brushed past her, ignoring the hurt expression that once again grazed her pretty face.

Emily went back to washing the dishes, pretending that she wasn't hurt and wasn't worried. She'd been doing that all morning anyway, busing herself with household tasks, trying not to think that maybe she was losing the best relationship she'd been in, in years. Though she was rapidly running out of household tasks.

Matt locked himself in the bedroom, he didn't want to talk, he didn't want to address his problems. He didn't want her to know that he was having problems, didn't want her to realize that she would better off without him now. He could tell she was hurt, and couldn't help but think it was good. Maybe she would leave on her own, so he wouldn't have to tell her to go.

* * *

_Yes, finally another chapter to this story, my deepest apologies for the delay. I'll be alternating updates between this one and Just Breathe, so hopefully they'll be regular from here on out. Just a note, I barely looked at this story in a month, so any errors in continuity or awkwardness is due to that. Thank you all for sticking with the story, for reading, and especially for reviewing!_


	16. Chapter 16

The next day Emily was in the office, plowing through a month's worth of paperwork, while Matt stayed at home, flipping channels in boredom on the couch, and trying not to think about the incident that put him there. Emily had left that morning after a quick reassurance that he would be fine, and promise to call her if he needed anything. They didn't kiss, didn't hug, just uttered halfhearted goodbyes.

They were both relieved to be away from each other, and the tension so thick it would take a saw to even put a dent in it. It was painful for both of them to be in the place they were now, and the dour expression Emily was wearing, made that point pretty obvious. She sighed, throwing her pen across the cubicle, aggravated that she couldn't remember the simple facts of the McMillian case. Cheryl had to stop abruptly to allow the pen to bounce out of the cubicle without hitting her.

"Emily, everything okay?" She looked at the negotiator concerned; this was not typical Emily behavior, it was the opposite. She didn't get violent when she felt stressed, she went to think through a logical solution out of her stress.

"Fine, just can't remember this case." She didn't look up, just began, rifling through the papers on her desk.

"Can't remember because you might have hit you're head harder than we thought, or can't remember, because you have too much else on your mind?"

"The latter," she finally looked up, stress written all over her face.

"Maybe you could use some more time before coming back? Hang out with Matt another day or two?"

Emily's eyes widened at the idea, "No!"

Cheryl opened her mouth to speak, but wasn't sure how to respond. Emily obviously didn't want to see Matt, but she couldn't even fathom why. She regained her tongue back, "I think we should move this discussion into my office."

Emily's face fell, but she followed Cheryl anyway.

"So obviously something isn't right between you and Matt, what's going on?"

She shrugged, helplessly, "I don't know. He doesn't want to talk to me, doesn't want to touch me, seems to not want me around anymore." She felt so pathetic.

"That makes no sense." It was a direct, blunt statement, born of watching the two kiss like teenagers at the hospital.

"I know. He was fine at the hospital; he was Matt. Now…I just don't know what to think."

"Have you mentioned any of this to Dr. Murphy?"

"No, I haven't seen her since Matt got out of the hospital. I see her tomorrow."

"Then you should tell her then, she might be able to help. In the meantime, are you going to be able to work the rest of the day without throwing pens?" Cheryl wore an amused expression asking the question.

"Yes, sorry," She looked sheepish, embarrassed by her small outburst.

"Good, and whatever Matt's going through? I don't believe that he doesn't want you anymore."

"Thanks," Emily sighed, not entirely convinced, and left the office to go back to her stack of papers.

* * *

**Later that Night**

After dinner Matt returned to the couch, surprised to find Emily joining him. They'd steered clear of each other the previous day, hoping to steer clear of the awkwardness at the same time. He didn't move away when she sat next to him, but didn't move to touch her either, as he normally would have done. Matt flipped the TV to AMC, which had just started showing _The Hunt for Red October_, and they settled on that for the rest of the night.

Emily began to nod off just as Alec Baldwin and Sean Connery finally met, and Matt risked wrapping an arm around her. He closed his eyes, choosing to focus on the sensation of feeling her close, over watching the two men on the screen interact. It felt so good to him right then, like a drink of water after being thirsty for days. It, plain and simple, felt right for her head to rest on his chest, and her hair to tickle his neck. At the same time he knew it was wrong, that he should be keeping his distance, that he should be pushing her away.

He didn't though. He ignored the TV while the movie finished, his gaze, his mind focused on Emily, sound asleep in his arms. When the credits began to roll he nudged her gently, bringing her back from the land of nod. She looked around, adjusting to her surroundings a moment, before a soft smile graced her face. She was wrapped in his arms, one of her own draped across his belly. God, she had missed that. He leaned down toward her.

"Time for bed."

"Oh…" She whined, "I don't want to move, I'm so comfortable right here." She snuggled deeper into his chest, causing him to giggle.

Emily Lehman was the first one to act like an adult in most situations, but when she was tired, she reverted to childhood. He grinned, "okay."

In one slightly clumsy move, he turned her just so, lifted himself off the couch, her in his arms, and after a slight moment to adjust their positions, carried her off to the bedroom. She had her face in his shoulder and her arms around his neck, careful not to move them near his healing skin grafts. He deposited her, less than gracefully, on the bed, flopping down beside her at the same time, as Emily came fully awake with a giggle of her own.

She stopped giggling long enough to turn to him, their faces inches apart as he watched her. Emily took a chance then, and leaned in capturing his lips, amazed that she was actually able to do that again. Matt reciprocated, raising his arm to grab her waist and pull her close, when reality hit him. This is what he'd been trying to avoid; this was not good. He dropped his arm, and broke the kiss hurriedly.

"Sorry," he told her sheepishly, and lied, "tired."

He rolled away, and hopped off the bed, rushing off to the bathroom, leaving a confused and stunned Emily alone. She stayed laying on the bed, trying to figure out what just happened. She thrust her hands over her face and groaned softly.

"Shit."

* * *

"Hello Emily, how have you been?" Nora smiled at her patient.

"Lousy." It was obvious from her expression that Emily wasn't happy.

"Oh, why is that?"

"I'm tired and I can't concentrate." In fact, Emily was too damned tired to fight this shrink on anything. She wanted to hear Emily unload? Well, today she was going to get it.

"You're still having nightmares?"

"Yes."

"Generally with Matt?"

"The past three nights, two had Matt, in the third I was stuck in the theatre again."

"Have they changed at all from the earlier ones you mentioned?" She'd been hoping Emily's dreams would abate when Matt came home, but they seemed to be increasing instead. Not a very good sign.

"No, they're all pretty much the same idea."

"Okay, any other reasons you can sleep?" Nora was praying her patient would plead an active sex life, but that wasn't the case.

"The same reason I can't concentrate, problems with Matt."

"What kind of problems?"

"Everything between us was fine in the hospital, it was normal, but now…" Emily trailed off, not sure how to describe the bizarre change that occurred.

"Now he's changed?"

"Yes, he won't talk to me, he barely looks at me, and he won't, won't…" She didn't want to say this, it sounded so pathetic.

"Won't what?"

"He won't…he doesn't, doesn't want to touch me."

"Has he touched you at all since he got out of the hospital?" She completely ignored how awkward this made her patient, acting instead, like they were discussing something as benign as lipstick.

"Last night, I fell asleep on the couch, he wrapped his arm around me, then woke me up and carried me to the bedroom. I kissed him, and he kissed back, but all the sudden, pulled away, said he was tired, and went to the bathroom." Emily didn't bother to try and hide her frustration.

"Emily you realize he's been through quite an ordeal, and emotionally might be having difficulty with it, right?"

"Yes, of course I do. I just don't understand what happened between here and the hospital to bring him to where he is." She was getting frustrated. If problems coping was all that this was, she would gladly give him the time and support he needed, but this was something else.

"Emily, since Matt is also my patient, I can't really get too deep into what's going on in his mind, but I don't think you have too much to be worrying about. Give him some time to work through it, he'll come around."

Emily sighed, she wished she could agree. Everybody was telling her that he'd be fine, that he needed time to cope, that he didn't really want her to go, but it didn't stop the nagging feeling in her gut that said that was exactly what he wanted.

* * *

_Yes, I promise this is going somewhere, just have to get through a few things before I bring it there. I hoping to update this regularly, so hopefully it will be finished before Severence. Meanwhile, my cable got screwed up, so I only saw have of 'Kids in the Hall, grrr..._


	17. Chapter 17

Matt yawned at the doctor, who was pulling off the bandages he'd applied that morning, burn cream and all. It had been a bit of a challenge as usual, but he didn't ask Emily for help. He hadn't since he got home, too concerned about keeping his distance.

"Emily keeping you up, man?" Chris asked with a wicked grin.

"I wish. No, just haven't been sleeping great." Matt answered, watching the doctor working, keeping his arms raised in the air.

"Have you been seeing that shrink?"

"Yes, once. I see her again tomorrow. Evidently, she thinks I'm so screwed up I need to see her twice a week."

"Hailing from the Flannery family, you would think that's normal." Chris joked. Their extended relations were rather colorful.

"So I should carry that as a mark of pride?" Matt grinned, recalling their uncle, who had a conspiracy theory for every event in American history, aunt that obsessively counted the pasta before tossing in the pot to took, and Granny Flannery, the most colorful of them all. She'd gotten so angry at their father when he was a boy, she cooked his rabbit in a pie.

"That's what Granny would say."

"No, Granny would tell me to get off my lazy ass and back to work, but not before I get married and supply her with great grandkids." The woman, who they were convinced was only still breathing because she was too stubborn and tough to die, had taken to demanding her great grandsons procreate after their twenty-first birthdays. She wanted to live to see their kids.

"You realize that's why she's still alive, right? Until one of us knocks someone up."

"I don't doubt it for a minute," Matt agreed, finally dropping his arms, as the doctor made notations on his chart.

"You're farther down that road than I'm am. Do us both a favor, and get it done. Emily would make a great mom." Chris was testing his brother's reactions, just to see where he was with his partner.

"I don't doubt she would, Chris. That's not going to happen though."

He looked puzzled. "What? She can't have kids?"

"No, well, I guess I don't really know. We never discussed it."

"So…you can't have kids?" After glancing wonderingly at them for a brief minute, the doctor left the room.

"No, far as I know the swimmers are fine."

Now Chris really was confused, "then what? She doesn't want kids? You don't want them? I don't get it Matt."

"I don't know her opinion on the subject, I don't even really know mine. That isn't the issue. It just won't happen."

"Man, you need to elaborate on that just a little," he gestured holding two of his fingers only millimeters apart.

Matt looked at his brother for a moment, contemplating lying, before sighing. "She's better off without me."

Chris's confusion was replaced by complete bewilderment. "Man the lady camped out in you room for like a week, you would have thought she was on speed with how nervous she was when they did the skin graphs. She's obviously crazy about you, so how, in any realm of your imagination, would she be better off without you?"

"Mr. Flannery can I interrupt a moment?" The doctor returned, chart still in his hands.

"Of course. How does everything look?"

"You're healing very nicely. So, you can stop applying bandages, but finish the antibiotics we sent you home with, they'll prevent infection while you continue to heal. Otherwise, you're good to go." The doctor smiled, and handed him discharge papers.

"Great, thank you." Matt was only too happy to get the chance to leave, and hopefully end his brother's line of questioning. He quickly signed the page, and hurried out of the room, dropping it at the nurses station before continuing on his way.

"This conversation is not over, Matt," Chris called after, grinning at his brother's quick getaway.

"The hell it's not!" Matt called back, warning his brother with a glare. The younger Flannery held up his hands in defense, and shook his head, wondering what was going on with his brother.

* * *

"Hello Matt, do you have a journal for me?" Nora asked happily, as her patient entered and sunk into the sofa.

"Yeah, just as you ordered," he thrust the book at her, sarcasm already dripping from his tone.

"Alright, how have things been? Sleeping any better?"

"No, not even a little. I'm exhausted."

"How about the flashbacks during the day, still as frequent?"

"Yes."

"This is what I'm going to do. I'm not terribly worried about the flashbacks, but you're body needs time to cope. And, it also needs rest, so I'm prescribing Rozerem for you. It will help you sleep, and it isn't addictive."

Matt shot her a withering look, "I'm not taking sleeping pills."

"You make it sound like I'm giving you roofies. It's just to help you sleep Matt." She assured him.

"I don't think so, I don't like that stuff." Matt took as few medications as possible.

"It's not addictive in any way."

"No."

"How about I just write you the prescription? You don't have to fill it unless you want to?" Nora Murphy was used to negotiating with her patients; cops were the most infuriating people to work with.

Matt thought a minute, and then nodded, "fine, I'll do that."

"Good, now I'm hoping we can move on." She waited for his reaction.

"To what?"

"Emily." This would be a fun topic to try and breach with him.

"What about her?"

"You're obviously having problems with her."

"I don't have problems with Emily," he insisted angrily.

"Yes, you do. You're pushing her away."

Matt was surprised a minute, before remembering, "right, you have her as a patient too."

"Well that, and I can read people well. So you won't deny that you're pushing her away?"

"No. I have good reason."

"Which is?"

"She deserves better than me." He spoke to the floor, too embarrassed by his confession to make eye contact.

"Why, because you're having some trouble dealing with the bomb?" She said it in such a tone to suggest that it was a ridiculous thought.

"I can't sleep, I'm jumpy all the time, I can't friggin sit still, and I randomly drift off to lala land only to come back completely freaked out! That's a little more than trouble dealing! I'm a damned headcase, and Em doesn't need that in her life." He ranted, trying to make her understand that he wouldn't put Emily through this.

"Then why not just tell her to leave?" She baited him.

"Because," he started, looking away for a moment, "because I need her."

She studied him, not sure what she wanted to do with this situation. The issues the negotiators were having separately involved each other, and wouldn't be resolved until they heard what the other was thinking.

"We done yet?" Matt asked, looking pained at the discussion.

"Yes, for today. Here's a new journal, keep writing, and Emily has an appointment next week, your next one will be with her."

Matt looked at her, confusion written on his face, "sorry?"

"I want to see you and Emily together," she answered, as if it was the simplest concept in the world.

"Like couple's counseling?" Matt had begun to look pained again. Did this woman really expect them to pour out their hearts in front of each other? If she knew them even a little, she'd know that wasn't going to happen.

"Not so much, more like a therapy session where you benefit off each other."

"Right…and that's different how?"

"Goodbye Matt," she sighed, ushering him out the door. "I'll see you in five days."

"Lucky me," he mumbled, leaving the office.

* * *

That night Matt and Emily continued their marathon of barely speaking to each other. Matt crashed in front of the TV, repeatedly thanking the FX network for playing a Die Hard marathon, the perfect thing to keep his attention. Emily stowed away in the bedroom, reading a new mystery novel, and trying like hell to keep her overloaded mind from wondering away. A month ago the couple would have spent this rare free time very naked, in bed, in the shower, on the couch, basically the first comfortable place they found. But now, they didn't even want to be in proximity to each other.

Sharing a bed had become beyond awkward the previous night, and was no better tonight. Emily was ready first, crawling back into bed with her book, eyes closing every so often, a testament to her utter exhaustion. Matt joined her just as her eyes were closing for the about the fifth time, crawling in the opposite side, and hugging the edge of the bed. He had his head on the pillow when she was coming to, as her book fell from her hands; Matt struggled not to smile at how adorable he found her right then. Moments later, she flicked off the light, plunging them into what had become their normal, awkward darkness.

It took Matt almost forty-five minutes to fall asleep, and he woke up two hours later, feeling the unease that had become so familiar. He tossed and turned a bit, trying to get comfortable, but not wake Emily, before quitting and laying awake again.

Emily was still lost in dreamland, struggling in Frank's grip, begging him to let her see Matt. He refused, as he always did in these dreams, so she turned to Duff, who held his hands up in a gesture that clearly said he was deferring to Frank. She yanked the earpiece from Frank's head, and demanded hysterically to Lia, pled with her to tell her anything. Lia hung up. Finally Cheryl came into view, telling Emily that she needed to calm down. She stopped struggling against Frank, and used her eyes this time to convey her desperation. Cheryl pursed her lips, as if deciding whether or not to answer, and Emily didn't waste a second when she felt Frank's grip relax.

She broke out, tearing out of the smoking theatre, her eyes immediately falling on a figure laying a few feet from the door. Her approach was slow, but she seemed to reach the blackened, still smoldering corpse in seconds. His flesh had turned black and flaky, his left arm, and a large piece of his torso missing. One foot, and a chunk of his head had also flown god knows where, brain matter splattered in his hair. His eyes as always, were untouched, the lids open so that his brown orbs were staring at her, proving his identity beyond the shadow of a doubt. She turned and began to heave, her world suddenly changing.

Emily jolted awake, coughing, her heart pounding, and body soaked in a cold sweat. She sat up, one hand rested over her heart, as if to calm the rapid beat, the other braced her against the bed. That had been one of the worst ones.

Matt pretended to be asleep, wondering what she'd been dreaming about that seemed to freak her out so much. Had he opened his to see her, he might have caught the light from outside reflecting off the tiny droplets beginning to rain from her eyes.

Her chest still heaving, trying to take in enough air, Emily settled back down into the bed, resuming her curled position, facing away from Matt.

When he heard her settle, Matt opened his eyes, surprise to see her body performing tiny little jolts every few seconds. When he began to hear sniffles, he finally realized that Emily was crying. He reached his hand out, and gently touched her back, startling her at first, before beginning to rub calming circles.

"Hey Em, it's okay. Tell me what happened," he soothed.

She didn't turn to face him, "I'm fine, it was just a dream."

"Obviously not, if it has you crying."

"It was a very bad dream." She sounded almost like a child with her stuffed up nose.

"Em, come on. Talk to me."

She finally rolled over, fear, worry and exhaustion combining to create desperation in her eyes. "I don't need talk Matt. I need to feel close to you."

Without a second thought, he scooted closer to her, and raised an arm, inviting her to snuggled with him. She didn't hesitate in taking it, half rolling, half scooting to meet him in the middle, wrapping an arm around his waist, and allowing her head to settle against his chest, as they meddled their bodies together.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he ventured.

"Not tonight." Her voice was muffled by his chest.

"Okay, then just sleep."

* * *

_Only a few more chapters and this one should be done, finally. I think because of my ongoing stories, it hasn't really hit me that the shows over. It doesn't feel over, though I have to say, I was very pleased with 'Severance.' Anyway, I'm babbling now. Thanks for reading and reviewing!_


	18. Chapter 18

"So, what's wrong with my negotiators?" Cheryl had dragged herself and Dr. Nora Murphy in an hour early for a discussion on her troubled negotiators.

"You know I can't tell you much," Nora looked at her friend of several years, wanting to explain the pair's issues, but being legally bound not to.

"It's me, you can at least give me a rough idea," Cheryl pleaded with her, hoping their friendship would sway her.

"Being blown up isn't an easy thing to get over, especially when you're in a relationship with the person you were blown up with." She didn't offer much.

"Come on Nora, you can do better than that. I'm here as a friend also, not just their boss."

"You're really here as a friend?" Between friends, maybe it could be a little secret.

"Yes, I'm worried about them. Something isn't right between them, or with them for that matter."

"They're traumatized, how's that?"

"That sounds very bad...I was hoping I was wrong."

"It isn't as bad as it sounds. I've gotten them to talk, so they are making progress. I'm going to see them together in a few days. That's when I expect real progress."

"Like couple's therapy?" Cheryl asked with a sideways glance.

Nora shook her head in mock annoyance, "what is it with you cops and instant hatred of therapy?"

"It's in our veins," she shrugged. "I'm sure Emily was fine."

"Actually, I think she hates me more than her partner does."

Cheryl laughed at that, "the shrink didn't enjoy getting her head shrunk?"

"Not one bit. She got better though."

"So...when can I expect to have them back in the field?"

"The brain is a complicated thing, Cheryl. And, in all realism, you shouldn't _be_ expecting them back." She hadn't looked forward to dropping that bomb.

"What?" Cheryl was clearly stunned.

"People don't always come back from traumatic events like these. However, you have two very strong-minded individuals, who I'm confident will work through this, provided this next session goes well."

"And if it doesn't?"

She shrugged, "like I said, brain is a complicated organ."

"I was hoping you wouldn't say that." Cheryl sighed, disappointed and still worried about her friends.

"How about we talk about you now?"

"Excuse me?" Cheryl knew exactly where this was going.

"You were shot at, grazed by a bullet, and watched a theatre blow up with two of your friends inside, while they were under your command. And, as I understand it, Matt looked pretty back initially."

"No comment."

"Don't do that with me. I know you saw Bailey, and he'd clear someone while they were having a flashback in front of him. So...talk to me."

"Getting shot hurts."

Nora just gave her a sharp look, making her lack of amusement very clear.

Cheryl sighed, "fine, I guess I didn't have much time to think about being shot, there was a firefight still raging, but I suppose it was chilling and…and kind of a relief."

"Okay, why was it a relief?"

"Because once I was down, Matt and Frank picked up without losing a beat. I guess it was nice to know that if something should happen to me at a scene, I can still count on them to keep their heads, and diffuse the situation."

"Makes sense, so why did you say chilling?"

"It wasn't frightening, because it was just a graze, but it could have been more, it could have been a lot more, so it was chilling to suddenly think about not waking up tomorrow." Cheryl's tense posture of the last two weeks relaxed slightly, her burdens lessening a bit as she spoke.

"See, it helps to talk, doesn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose it does. Doesn't mean I have to like it though."

"No, it doesn't. So that was the easy part, you're a strong woman, you're a leader, you put others before yourself; it's not surprising that you would handle getting shot at pretty well."

"I'd say thanks, but I think something else it coming." She looked at her friend skeptically.

"You saw a building blow up with two of your friends inside, how about you tell me about that."

"That was…you ever get that painful feeling in your stomach, feels like something is gnawing at it? It was that, only ten times as painful."

"You're very close to these agents in particular."

"I was partnered with Matt for five years, we became pretty close. And, I've known Emily for years now, she's one of the few women in the office, so I guess we kind of just became friendly. And now that she's dating Matt, well you tend to become friends with your friend's significant others."

"So, at what point did this feeling stop?" Nora was regarding her with the kind of studious gaze only a shrink could wear.

Cheryl was quiet for a few minutes, trying to come up with an answer for that. Finally she sighed, "who says it has?"

Nora actually smiled at her, "see, now was that so hard?"

An irritated look was the only response she afforded the psychologist. Upon realizing the answer to that question, she'd realized what Nora was trying to get at. Damn shrinks.

"So, I take it, while it's still present, this feeling as abated some?"

"You want the whole play by play?" Came Cheryl's sarcastic offer.

"Actually yes," she smiled. Whether she wanted to or not, Cheryl was talking.

"Okay, when I saw Matt still smoldering, I thought I might vomit, I thought he was dead. That feeling doubled. Then we couldn't find Emily for several hours, and then it was a few more until we were told Matt was alright. And then everything seemed to be alright, but…but, it's not." Her voice came out tired and strained, betraying the 'everything's okay' veneer she'd worn since that night.

"I have the feeling this goes beyond Matt and Emily?"

"Yeah, this really hit us hard. According to Frank most of his men are coping pretty well, a little less playful maybe, but only two are out of the field for now. Most of the techs are fine…"

"But?"

"Lia, Frank, Duff, something's different. It's almost as if…you know we do pretty well when get a call. We bring everyone out safely, including the HTs, without a scratch on anyone. There's guns, some yelling, some threats, maybe a bang from one of Frank's gadgets, but that's it. It's almost like we had a false sense of security, and now that's gone. You know? We don't necessarily know that we'll be home by midnight, or even if we'll ever get home. We don't assume anymore that we'll come out victorious." She paused staring off, lost in her mind.

Nora didn't say anything, sensing there was more to come.

"We've had two negotiations so far, and most of the same people have been involved, except Matt and Emily. Both times, when I told them, I could see them tense up, just slightly, but it was there. They seemed fine at the bomb site, fine at the hospital, but now, it's almost as if we're all expecting another bomb to go off, literally. And, I don't expect them forget what happened, or get over it immediately, but I'm afraid the whole team is still shaken up. It's not safe for us to be in the field if everybody is imagining a burning theatre in their minds."

"So, ask San Diego or San Francisco to take your calls until your team is ready." She spoke as if this was the simplest solution in the world.

"And inadvertently tell my team that I have no faith in them anymore? That will really help the problem, Nora." Her sarcasm was biting, but her anger was directed more at herself, for failing to protect her team.

* * *

"So? Are you ready to talk to me yet?" Matt sat beside his girlfriend, as he left dinner to cook in the oven. They hadn't been together the first half of the day, and he hadn't wanted to press her, hoping she'd talk on her own. 

She turned toward him, she'd hoped he would, like her, pretend last night hadn't happened. "You aren't going to let this go, are you?"

"No, not until you tell me what's going on." He was looking directly into her eyes, forcing her to look into his.

She turned away abruptly, not wanting him to see the fear and insecurity that lingered there.

"Em." He said her name firmly, driving her to look back at him.

Her expression was something akin to that of a rebellious teenager, be forced to listen to a lecture from her parent.

Matt ignored it. "This wasn't your first nightmare like that was it?"

"No, there have been plenty." He wanted the honest truth- she'd give it to him.

"Is that why Murphy's keeping you out of the field?" He asked, realization dawning.

"Yeah, she figures they're a good sign I haven't moved past that day."

"What are they about?" She was still acting hostile, and he couldn't figure out why.

"You, mostly. Generally you're burnt to a crisp, or blown to pieces, sometimes both, but your eyes are always there. That's how I always know it's you, why I can't even deny it." She snorted, self-deprecatingly.

As the surprise began to leave his face, he swallowed, and asked, "what does Murphy say about them?"

"That regardless of the fact that you appear to be alright, my subconscious knows something is wrong, and feels the need to give me graphic reminders of that in my sleep." She was a bit embarrassed that her mental issues hinged so directly on his.

"Why didn't you ever tell me about this?" His tone was incredulous, and completely oblivious to the hypocrisy in his question.

Now it was her turn to be surprised, she certainly hadn't missed his hypocrisy. "Excuse me?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were having nightmares?" He could sense the hostility growing in her voice.

"Why didn't I tell you? Are you serious Matt?" Her voice, now tinged with blatant anger, had grown louder.

"What?"

"You've barely spoken to me in a week, you barely look at me, you won't touch me, and you are really going to stand there an ask me why I didn't confide in you, as if I actually had that option?"

"You always have that option, Em. I told you that, I'm always here for you." His tone was serious, heavy with meaning.

"How the hell-" she cut herself off, placing her hand over her mouth, and breathing slowly to calm herself before continuing. "Matt, do you still love me?"

The rapid widening of his eyes, conveyed his surprise at the question. "What? Of course!"

"Because I was pretty sure you didn't up until last night, and even then," she paused, her throat catch at the tears that were beginning to form. "Even then, I figured that was mostly pity."

"No, it wasn't, never." They had somehow ended up much closer to each other than they had started, hips pressed together, faces only inches apart.

"Really? Because I don't know anymore Matt." Her voice had become thick, and somewhat garbled through the tears that had begun to fall. "I don't know what's going on with us anymore. And that scares me. You have to tell me, because I just don't know anymore."

"I don't know either, but this isn't about you Em. This is because of me." He allowed his fingers to roam through his thick, unkempt hair.

"What do you mean?" He was avoiding her because of himself? That didn't make any sense to her.

"It's just…you're better off without me right now." There, he finally admitted it. It was finally time to tell her to go.

"What would ever make you think that?" She asked softly.

"Stuff, things. Just leave me, okay? Don't make this a big deal, don't ask me a lot of questions, just accept that I'm a little fucked up right now, and run out of here like something out of a Steven King novel is chasing you." He implored her with his words, his eyes, even hand gestures, but Emily just continued to sit, open-mouthed.

"Talk. To. Me." She spoke slowly, making sure he would hear and understand her correctly.

"What?"

"Talk to me, Matt. Tell me what's going on with you. And god help you, if you say something about sex or shrinks," she warned.

"Leave it alone Emily."

"No, I told you about my dreams. Quid Pro Quo." She demanded.

He gave her a sideways look, "uh no thanks, Hannibal."

"Matt, now is really not the time to be a smart ass with me. I'm not leaving, or running out of here with my tail between my legs, just because you're telling me too. If you really care about someone, really love them, you don't run off, when they need help. You're physically incapable of it."

He sighed, she really wasn't going to leave, was she? "Fine you want to know what my problems are?"

"Yes, I've only been begging you to tell me for the last twenty minutes."

"Okay, I do this thing where I drift off without realizing, back to that day, and when I come back I covered in sweat and my heart is pounding so fast, I can barely breathe. I'm jumpy all the time, so I have trouble getting to sleep, and staying that way. I can't even sit still Em."

"Oh, because dreaming about you dead every night is so normal and healthy?"

"I can't do that to you, and I won't." His voice was even, and determined.

"What is that?"

"I can barely function right now, you deserve better."

"Matt, listen to me for a minute, alright?" She leveled her face with his, staring straight into his eyes.

He nodded.

"I love you, so much that it's frightening. I want you. All I want is you. I don't care what you say, I will never find better than you." She rested her hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating as if he was running a marathon.

He didn't say anything, simply pulled her close, convinced by her words that she still loved him, in spite of his coping problems. Emily could feel his heart beginning to slow as they sat holding each other, and was surprised to feel a few warm tears hit her shoulder. Maybe they would get past this.

* * *

_Another chapter, I'm aiming for only two or three more. Sorry this one is taking so long. Thank you all for reading and reviewing, and even more so, for sticking with it. _

_hunnielove: I did see that, but I have little faith in Fox. Still hoping though!_

_squinter: I'll see what I can do, you already got my wheels turning. As for taking requests, I suppose I do, for short stories at least, I have too many long ones still in my head to even do, I don't need anymore. _


	19. Chapter 19

_This chapter gets a tad sexually graphic at the end, but I purposely mentioned no organs by any name, so as to keep it at a T rating, just kids be warned. Otherwise this is the second to last chapter, and I'm very excited to say, puts me over the 300,000 words archived mark! Thank you for reading, and reviews are greatly appreciated!_

* * *

"Are you serious with this?" Matt asked, his face slightly twisted in pain, as he and Emily approached the rapidly growing group in the park, picnic materials in hands.

"Very," Cheryl told him, as she led them to the piece of park the CNU hand taken as their own.

"It's uh, sweet," Emily offered, wondering what possessed Cheryl to invite (or rather demand) everyone for a picnic.

"We've all been through an ordeal, it's time to step back and enjoy ourselves for a moment."

"Yeah, but-"

"Don't argue Flannery. Everybody here needs to be reminded that everybody else and themselves is alive, and no longer in that situation." Cheryl was sure there was something better she could have done to help them, but she didn't know what, so she determined that a picnic would have to do.

"Hey, hey! Look who's arrived! How you been?" Frank greeted him warmly, happy to see his friend after a week with him not at work.

"Fine, but I'd be better if I could go to work." He shot Cheryl a look.

She held her hands up, "you have to take that up with Nora, not me."

"Ok, so what can we help with?" Emily asked, looking around, arms still laden with a blanket, tablecloth, and stack of paper plates. Matt was carrying a Tupperware dish of pasta salad, and a case of beer.

"Well, HRT is cooking, Frank made himself Master of the Grill. Temple and Binder are searching for ice, Lia is setting up the table with Jane and Lizzie, everyone else is watching kids. But, I do have this contraption that I need to set up, if you two care to help." She help up a bag that almost looked like a tent, after listing everyone's positions.

"What is it?" Emily eyed the bag curiously.

"Uh, dining fly?" Cheryl didn't seem quite sure about the device did, but obviously felt that it was needed.

"Okay, let's go." Matt shrugged, how hard could it be?"

Cheryl dumped out the bag, vinyl fabric easing out, after several spikes, and thin poles hit the ground. The trio picked the fabric up at once, attempting to discern its ends; finally finding them, they pulled it apart, to find that direction didn't come any easier.

"Uh, poles first?" Emily asked.

"Right, probably should do that." Matt nodded as Cheryl was already grabbed two and working them together. They could hear Frank and Duff giggle from the nearby grill, enjoying the three negotiators obvious struggle.

A pole suddenly came out of nowhere, and Frank lunged back to avoid it, the hot dog in his tongs flying and smacking Duff's head with a wet thud.

"Oh gross, watch the wieners!" He yelped, wiping at the grease it left on his head.

"Sorry man, they're lethal with those poles, barely missed taking my head off!"

"Oh, it wasn't that close!" Emily insisted.

"It wasn't your head it came at!" The rest of the crowd nearby had started laughing at the exchange.

"Alright, alright, stop arguing, we have to get this together." Cheryl chastised them, directing Emily's attention back to their project.

Twenty minutes and a few scrapes and bumps later the trio had finally assembled their dining fly, spikes in the ground and all. As they sat under it, enjoying a much-needed break, a fly buzzed by Cheryl and she wondered if it was really worth all that effort.

"Alright, who wants a burger, who wants a dog!" Frank bellowed.

People swarmed the table under the dining fly, which housed all the food, plates, cups, utensils, and a very large cooler, filled with three kinds of beer, and the ice that Temple and Binder found at a nearby gas station. A smaller cooler sat beside the beer one, with sodas for the dozen kids, agents brought with them.

"So how's your little vacation from work going?" Frank asked Matt in between bites of his juicy, dripping burger. The six of them had gathered at one of the picnic tables nearby, with full plates and Heineken.

"Boring. So unbelievably boring." He answered chomping on his own. "How's the field been?"

It was if everyone stopped eating, drinking, moving, and all eyes roved, sensing the meaning behind the question. It wasn't as simple as it sounded. With those four words Matt was asking if it felt different now, if they still saw that building blow up, if they were waiting to happen again, if they got nervous now before heading into a situation, if they hesitated.

"Not the same without our favorite couple sweet-taking the HT, and having their usual verbal back and forth in between," he answered after a short silence. His meaning was clear: it was different, they were managing, but it wasn't like it used to be.

"Well, we hope to be back soon enough."

"Oh yeah? You think-" His comment was lost in the ring of Cheryl's phone. A quick glance and she stepped away from the table, the irritated look on her face betraying her lack of desire to talk to the person on the other end.

"So you think the shrink will sign off on you two soon?" Frank repeated himself.

"She better, I don't know how many more therapy sessions I can sit through," Emily grumbled, determined that she belonged on the other side of that equation.

"That bad?"

Both Matt and Emily nodded vigorously.

Cheryl came back over, before anyone could comment, and turned to Matt, her face slightly pained as she addressed, as if afraid of his answer. "Matt, do you own a suit?"

"Of course I own a suit."

"Not just a suit, but a nice one."

"Yes, I own a nice suit," he assured her, annoyed. "Why?"

"You'll need it Thursday. The higher-ups were so impressed by your selflessness in the Imax theatre incident, that they have decided to present you both with the FBI's Valor Award. Congratulations." She wore a wide grin by the time she finished speaking.

Every mouth had the table had become an 'o' shape, taken aback by the announcement, until Frank began clapping loudly, followed by Duff, Lia and Cheryl. Matt and Emily just continued to look shocked, as the people at the other tables began to look over.

What's going on?" Temple shouted to them.

"Flannery and Lehman are being awarded!" Frank hollered back.

Rather than respond, Temple began a whole new round of clapping, so that the sheer volume of it drew the attention of other park dwellers, who offered curious looks. Emily colored slightly at the attention, and Matt smiled, and offered a drowned out "thanks."

* * *

A few hours later, they were all still gathered at the park, even as the sun began to set. Lia and Duff were walking along a path, laughing and talking, Frank was with HRT regaling the kids with war stories, Cheryl was nearby, counting the over-dramatizations, and Matt and Emily were rest on a blanket, leaning back against a tree. Emily was leaning against Matt's chest, a true testament to successful they were becoming at moving on. After their conversation, they'd slept curled together, like they had before, and were gaining back the intimacy they thought they'd lost. 

Lia and Duff walked by, amused to see that the couple had apparently fallen asleep. "Oh, they're so cute," Lia gushed, leaning in further against Duff.

"You make it sound like they're puppies or something," he boyfriend commented, unable to understand what she found so gush-worthy.

Lia rolled her eyes at him, and lightly slapped his chest, as they made their way over to where Frank was describing chasing their Bonnie and Clyde knockoffs from earlier in the year. Lia tapped Cheryl, and pointed over to Matt and Emily; she looked curiously, and then smiled, happy and relieved to find the couple seemed to be doing better.

Suddenly out of nowhere, a huge boom sounded, as if a bomb went off.

All of HRT and Cheryl jumped, recalling the last time they heard a similar noise, and hit the ground. Many covered children, Duff covered Lia, and Frank and Cheryl huddled together, as another boom sounded.

Matt and Emily had jumped awake, terror in their eyes, bodies tense and rigid. The second boom followed quickly, and Matt jumped and covered Emily, protecting the way who couldn't in the theatre. Their hearts were racing furiously.

The few who hadn't been at there for the Imax bomb, handled the situation better, ducking and protecting their heads at first, but looking around after the second one. Their eyes went to the sky, where streams of color showered down, as another burst bright green.

"It's fireworks!" Binder yelled, relieved, hoping the others would feel the same at the announcement.

Gradually heads came up, and turned to the sky to see the bright colors raining down, and the booms came faster. Many were still shaken, the booms sounding all too familiar, but the relief in the air was palatable. A few swallowed nervously, a hand could be seen shaking here or there, as they struggled to remind themselves where they were.

Matt and Emily, standing now, were both shaky, and their hearts still pounded with every explosion above their heads. Matt began to feel himself drifting off to a familiar scene at a familiar theatre, his breathing becoming ragged with fear. Emily tried to breathe deeply to slow her heart rate, and blinked her eyes to keep the images of nightmares from her mind. Sensing Matt's panic, she rested a hand on his back, and the other on his face, staring into his blank gaze.

His eyes instantly sprung to life again, focused on her now, but haunted by fear. She continued staring straight into his eyes, forcing him to focus on her.

"It's okay, stay with me," she whispered to him, coaxing him to stay in the present. He moved his hand up to rest along her lower jaw and neck, while the other wrapped around her waist.

They continued staring into each other's eyes. He could feel her body tense with every explosion, and she could see through his eyes, his mind threatening to pull him away at the same moments. But, they held each other as anchors, tethering them to the present, to calamity, in their fear.

And Emily still whispered, "It's okay, stay with me."

When the fireworks finally ended after half an hour, the children were looking oddly at the adults, who had obviously overreached to something they knew to be benign. Many of the agents who'd been at working during the bomb were still trying to slow their heartbeats, Duff, Frank and Cheryl included. Cheryl's eyes immediately flew the Matt and Emily, who were no longer staring into each other's eyes, but embracing tightly.

She did a once-over, checking the agents nearby, making sure none had a panic attack or flashback, before she turned away satisfied, and jogged toward Matt and Emily. She'd glanced their direction earlier, after she'd gotten her own head back on, and though not entirely sure what they were doing, decided it was clearly not something for her to interrupt. But now, she needed to know they were okay.

"Are you alright?" The couple broke apart, and she could see Emily's hand trembling, and a sheen of sweat glistening on Matt's face and neck.

"We're fine," Emily assured her, while Matt nodded conformation.

"You're sure?"

Emily nodded, "what was that about?"

"Somebody celebrating I guess." Cheryl felt terrible, she dragged everybody out for what was supposed to be a therapeutic picnic, and ended up traumatizing everyone further. "If I'd know about them, I wouldn't have-"

Matt cut her off, "It's okay, really. Did us some good actually."

Her expression turned to one of confusion, brown furrowed, eyes questioning. Though it seemed he had no intention of explaining, and Emily wasn't offering anything, so Cheryl made a new suggestion. "We better start packing it in, it's getting late."

They nodded and followed her back to the tables, ignoring the sudden shift in conversation and demeanor.

"Daddy?" They heard a little boy ask his father, who was HRT, "why was everybody so upset by the fireworks?"

His father sighed, "it's nothing for you to worry about, maybe when you're older I'll explain."

* * *

That night when they returned to Matt's apartment, the negotiators knew what they wanted, knew what they were ready for again. They seemed to attach to each other as soon as the door was closed, and shared kisses in a slow dance to the bedroom. Something had happened back there, during the fireworks, something amazing in the midst of their terror. 

As they stood their, staring into each other, seeing beyond the fear, a connection developed. They had been so deep in each other, so aware of the other's vulnerability, so aware of their own, that bonds of an almost impossible sort of trust wound around them. Never had either had the opportunity to be in that position like that before.

Their waltz didn't end it the bedroom, it just became stationary, as they pulled off clothing. Matt's t-shirt was the first thing to come off, as Emily began exploring his body in a way they hadn't since they'd first gotten together. Matt had a bit more trouble with Emily's rather tight tank top, momentarily wishing he had a pocketknife handy to just cut the damn thing off. He trailed kisses along her collarbone, as he skillfully worked her bra off.

Slowly, slowly they worked their way down to pants, Matt once again finding more difficulty with Emily's tight jeans, than she had with his looser fitting ones. He was once again forced to curse women's fashion; men's clothing always takes these things into account. The speed and smoothness in which a man can get his clothing off, is tremendously important when shopping. Though, he more than made up for however clumsy he might have appeared, when it came time to remove her panties.

Slowly, slowly, he took his time removing the article of clothing. First, he placed with the waistband, his fingers gently lifting, and working soft circles along her bare skin. Then he kissed along her panty line, eliciting a few excited moans, before his mouth captured hers again, silencing one as it came out. His hand slid between her legs, teasing her through the fabric, before he finally yanked them off in one suave move. His pleasurable torture was over, and his victim was left breathing heavily.

But, then it was her turn to tease. She seized his mouth, pulling him back tightly against her, so that moments later, she rolled them over leaving her on top. Her tongue first attacked his earlobes, offering first a gentle, warm breath of air to give him a pleasurable chill, before sucking one then the other. At the same time she wound one hand south, and began to slowly excite him. She knew at that moment his toes would be curling at the combination. She was pleased to her a moan and her name escape from his lips. But, she wasn't done there. Releasing his lope, she moved her lips toward his shoulder, and was about to kiss the scars the began there, but he tried to redirect her lips to his.

She shook her head, he was self-conscious she knew, but there was something else he was going to know before that night was over. She pressed her lips to the scars, trailing kisses along them, as if paying her respects to the proof that he was alive. He seemed to tense just the tiniest bit, so she moved her lips back toward his ear for just a moment.

"I love you," she whispered, "all of you."

She rested her forehead against his momentarily, before returning to the scar, feeling this tension in him replaced by another kind, as she simultaneously began working her other hand again. Her name escaped his lips one more time, before Matt decided she'd tortured him enough, and rolled them back over, claiming her lips. He finally joined their bodies in a furious rhythm that betrayed their need to be together.

The slow speed at which they'd begun was forgotten, and they held on to each other as it increased. Their heavy breathing was punctuated only by enthusiastic moaning, or frenzied repetitions of the other's name. Soon the sensation assailing their bodies was pushed to the breaking point, and their climax was marked with primal screams from both.

They rolled apart, only to rejoin in another position, sweat glistening over their bodies, and chests heaving with the struggle to catch their breath. Emily lay half on top of Matt, her body pressed to the side of his, her arm slung across him, fingers beginning to trace circles over the scars on his shoulder. He kissed her forehead as they settled down, and tightened his arm around her, allowing the two to fall easily to sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

**Two Days After the Picnic**

Nora Murphy was running late to her office, and that wasn't good because she was seeing two patients that day. Two patients that were considered highly sensitive, according to Cheryl, who'd all but gotten on knees and begged her to help them get better. Now she was going to be late to see them, and both were already hostile to the idea of therapy, especially therapy together. She checked her watch for the umpteenth time, and stared at the numbers clicking up on the elevator. Come on, come on, can't this ancient piece of shit go any faster?

Evidently, the evil machine could read her mind, because it suddenly stopped, and shuddered, before beginning to ascend again. Finally it let her out on her floor, and she began sprinting toward her office, trying to hold a pen in her mouth, while simultaneously shoving a folder into her brief case, and retrieving her yellow notepad. Finally, she got to her office, and practically skidded inside, praying she got there before the couple either killed each other, or died after being strangled by the tension.

They had done neither. They were leaning back on her couch, Matt's arm casually slung around Emily's shoulders, his other hand entwined with one of hers. They were smiling, seemed to be engaging in a comfortable conversation, apparently paying no attention to the clock. In fact they seemed to be so involved in their discussion, or perhaps just in each other, that they didn't seem to notice her behind them, in the doorway. They looked so relaxed, so at ease with each other, in the office, for a minute Nora wondered if the pair didn't have identical twins. She decided to make her presence known.

"Alright, who are you two? I'm supposed to be seeing two patients, but you clearly aren't them."

They turned to face her, surprised at the sudden interruption, but nevertheless still smiling at her. Okay, now that was really weird; this couldn't be the same two people she'd been seeing.

"We weren't sure you were going to make it," Matt answered.

"I'm actually surprised you waited," she confessed.

She received to casual shrugs.

"Alright, so why don't you tell me about your last few days?" Obviously something big had happened with them, and she needed to know what.

"Uh, we to a museum yesterday," Matt offered, not sure if that was what she was looking to hear.

"Oh? What museum?"

"The art museum. It was good, relaxing actually, just looking at the paintings and sculpture."

"Yes, it really was. You remember that painting of all the sailboats, just kind of sitting there on the water?" Emily asked enthusiastically.

"That one was nice, if you stare at it long enough, you can almost trick your mind into thinking the boats are really moving. What about that one with the cat? The kid was holding it?"

Emily laughed, "yeah, the poor thing looked like it was going to fall through her arms any minute. It looked miserable."

"Good, it sounds like you both had a good time." Nora was at a complete loss, people didn't just turn 180s like that. "Anything else?"

"Well, the picnic. Cheryl's idea."

"Oh right, she mentioned that, how was it?" She seemed to get a grip for a moment, maybe that picnic idea of Cheryl's really did help them?

"Good people, good food, good times," Matt rattled off, like a restaurant commercial.

"It was nice to see everybody gathered and having a good time."

"And, then there were the fireworks, that was interesting."

"Oh?" Nora was suddenly alarmed, that couldn't have been good. "What happened?"

"They just started going off, scared the piss out of all of us."

"Yeah, we all hit the ground. It just sounded some much like the bomb, only much quieter," Emily agreed.

"And were you both able to handle it okay?"

"It was very unnerving, but we were fine afterward, maybe a little shaken up."

"Yeah, no flashbacks," Matt announced proudly.

"Really? How did you manage that?" She almost didn't believe him, a sound like that should have triggered flashbacks in half the people had been at that bomb scene, whether they were prone to them or not.

Matt shrugged, becoming shy at these questions. "I just focused on her."

"Okay…you?" She asked Emily, returning to her state of confusion.

"What? Oh yeah, we kind of just, I don't know, relied on each other to get us through it."

"Really? Good, I'm proud of both of you." She was pleasantly surprised by the explanation.

The two then didn't seem to know what to say to her, so they just kind of sat there, waiting for her to ask another question.

"So then, how about we discuss some of the problems you've been having with each other?" She suggested, hoping she could determine if they really were doing better, or just two of the best fakers she'd ever seen.

"We kind of already discussed them," Matt spoke defensively, as if he was afraid she'd be mad they solved their issues without her.

"Really?" Nora look at them in complete incredulity. Was it possible that they just did it that easily?

"Yeah, I had a nightmare," Emily explained. "He made me talk about it, and I made him talk about his problems."

"And then?"

"Well, uh, Emily kind of refused to let me push her away." Matt struggled to get the words out, feeling uncomfortably unmasculine discussing his feelings.

Both women wore amused expressions at his struggle, and Emily rolled her eyes before clarifying. "We realized we still love each other, and didn't want to lose that."

"Yeah, that about it," Matt agreed, happy that she got touchy feely so he didn't have to.

"Okay…so when I asked you two about your last few days, how come this wasn't at the top of the list?" She couldn't help but think how much confusion they would have saved her mentioning this off the bat.

"We're cops, we don't discuss our feelings," Matt shrugged with a self-deprecating grin.

"Right, almost forgot about that. So, alright moving on, Emily how have your nightmares been?"

"Uh, better, Matt was alive in the last two."

"Do you mind talking about them in front of him?"

"Uh, no, I actually already told him about them." Emily had been telling Matt about her dreams since they talked, and in exchange Matt told her when he had a flashback, or was feeling particularly jumpy.

"Really?" Nora Murphy had never expressed as much disbelief during her career as a therapist as she was that day.

"Yeah. Um, during the first one I woke up in the theatre and smoke was everywhere, and was begging everyone again to tell me where he was, and they said he was at the hospital being taken care of, but that he was alive. In the second one, I actually rode with him to the hospital, holding his hand, and he was conscious."

"That's very good. They will probably get better as time goes on, until your subconscious can finally accept that he's alright, then the dreams will stop altogether," she explained. "And Matt, how are your flashbacks when fireworks aren't going off?"

"I still get them, but not as often, and it feels like they're not as bad." He shifted uncomfortably; he was okay with the shrink so long as they didn't have to talk about their feelings, but she was making them do just that.

"You're discussing them with Emily then?"

"Yes, that's our deal." Clearly Matt would rather not talk about them.

"And that is why you're both doing so well. You aren't keeping these fears inside anymore, your aren't letting them each you alive. You're sharing them with someone, and thereby steadily lessening your burden. I'm very proud of you both, you're doing so well."

The two looked at each other and then asked questions at the same time.

"Can we go then?" Matt asked, ready to bolt.

"Does this mean we can go back in the field?" Emily's anxious voice wanted to know.

Nora was taken aback by the simultaneous demands, and physically moved back. Then she looked at them, and rolled her eyes. At least this wasn't a surprise.

"No, you can't go back in the field yet, either of you. But you are free to go, in just a minute. Next week, Emily, you'll be on Monday, Matt, you're Tuesday."

Both instantly looked less enthusiastic, and Matt gave a barely audible grumble.

Nora just shook her head in exasperation, and began waving them out, "Alright, you can go. Oh, and enjoy your first day back, Matt."

"It's paperwork, who enjoys paperwork?" Matt commented sarcastically, earning him a light smack and stern look from Emily.

"Right, thank you, I will," he amended.

After the couple left, Nora made a quick phone call.

"Carrera."

"You know what I said the other day, that shouldn't be expecting Matt and Emily back?"

"Hi Nora, and you think I could actually forget that?"

"I would like to correct that statement. You shouldn't expect them back very soon."

Cheryl smiled, relieved on the other end.

* * *

**Two and a Half Months Later**

After a month and a half away, Matt and Emily had returned to the field eagerly, but nervously. Cheryl had spent the last month working them back in gently. A jumper here, suicidal cop with his gun there, murder suspect that barricaded himself in last Tuesday, and they'd done well. It wasn't easy to allow somebody to work their way back into a job like crisis negotiation slowly, there was always lives at risk, or there was no crisis. But, Matt and Emily had been more than up to the challenge, and today Cheryl had put them on their first case back, with hostages, innocents.

"Shelly! Shelly please don't hang up!" Emily plead with their HT, a nineteen year-old woman who'd been raped and felt her whole life was taken from her by her rapist.

"It isn't fair, I can't deal with this! I can't move on unless he's dead! He's always going to be there!" Shelly wailed back at Emily, becoming more unhinged by the second. She'd taken her rapist hostage, which ordinarily wouldn't have troubled any of them much, but the despicable man had had his wife and two small children with him at the time.

"I know it's not fair, and he had no right to do what he did to you. He should be locked away forever, but Shelly, his family didn't do anything wrong."

"I don't care about them, you can have them!"

"You're going to release Mrs. Blake, and the two kids?"

"Yes! Yes! Lady take your kids and get the hell out of here!" Shelly yelled, pointing toward the door with her loaded gun. Mrs. Blake didn't waste anytime, but grabbed both kids by the hand, and appeared on the other side of the door moments later. Frank and Duff swept in to get her and the kids.

"Alright Shelly, that's very good. But, now it's time to talk about Walker." Walker Blake the white collar, loving husband, father of two, rapist.

"I told you Emily! I have to kill him! It's the only way!" Emily looked at Matt for ideas.

He went to write a 'C', 'O', and two 'M's, and then she stopped him, and mouthed, "I know," and shrugged her shoulders to say she just didn't know what kind of common ground they had.

Matt didn't miss a beat, but erased his few letters, and scribbled two new words quickly: Tobin Jensen.

Emily nodded, and removed the hand from her mouth piece.

"I know it feels that way Shelly. I know you feel like he's still there watching you all the time, and you feel chills when you walk on the streets. It's terrifying to imagine you see his face everywhere, hear his voice repeating what he's said to you, but killing him won't make that feeling go away."

"How do you know that!?"

"Because, do you remember that little boy that got kidnapped last year? The kidnapper was targeting a federal agent?" Emily hoped the girl watched the news, so she didn't have to rehash everything.

"Yeah, it was all over the news, I remember the sex tape." There was universal cringing among the people inside the command post.

"Yeah, well that was me. And, I swear everything I did for months afterward, it felt like he was watching me. I kept expecting to see his face."

"Yeah, well it's different with me, that's guy is dead, Walker isn't!"

"Exactly. It doesn't matter if you kill him, putting him in a grave won't take away that feeling."

"Then how the hell do I get rid of it!"

"Let him go, let the DA put him in a jail cell, keep going to your counseling sessions, and eventually it will get better. It's going to be hard, but it will get better Shelly, I promise."

"I can't! Oh! I don't know what to do!" She whimpered over the line, beginning to cry.

"She's emotionally distraught, Cheryl. She isn't going to come out, it's better we take her down now while she's vulnerable," Frank explained.

"Give her some more time," Matt insisted.

"I don't think it's going to help."

Emily jumped in, covering her mouthpiece. "She's a rape victim Cheryl, we can't attack her, or she's never going to be able to get past this. She won't be able to trust anyone."

Cheryl stared at the three people, who'd jumped in front of her, trying to determine the best course of action. She'd been watching Matt and Emily the whole way through the negotiation, and was impressed with them. They hadn't flinched once, hadn't even broken a sweat. She was about to answer, when the HT let off and anguished wail, and Emily jumped back into negotiation, uncovering her mouthpiece.

"Listen to me, Shelly. You told me today what happened to you, and all of these cops, that tells me you're a strong girl. Not many people can admit being raped to their families or closet friends, but you told me, you spoke up. Well, I need you to keep being strong, okay? I need you to tell yourself you're going to work through this, that you're going to stop looking over your shoulder one day. I need you to tell yourself that you can walk out of there, and hand over that gun, that Walker is a piece of shit, and not worth it. Can you do that?" Matt and Emily watched the house, hearts racing, waiting for the girl to answer. Cheryl's eyes traveled alternately between the house and her negotiators.

"I don't know. I think so," Shelly suddenly whimpered, breaking the tense silence.

"Okay, good." The tension seemed to fade from everyone's bodies. "We'll take this slow alright? Go and walk out the door right now, and drop your gun on the porch."

They heard the phone click, and then a young woman appeared at the front door to the house. She took a few steps, then tossed the gun to the other end of the porch, and held her hands up in surrender. HRT moved in to cuff her, and minutes later two HRT agents came out with the last hostage, who was unharmed.

* * *

_This one is finally done! I hope everyone had as much fun reading this, as I did writing it. Thanks so much for those who did read, and very, very much to those who have reviewed and will. I'd really like to know what people thought of the story at the end, so please review!_


End file.
